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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222533">You In Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/potashiamu/pseuds/aphelion'>aphelion (potashiamu)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mangata [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>League of Legends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Consensual Biting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Selectively Mute Aphelios, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma, aphelios and sett are basically mutually simping, aphelios is a power bottom, non-graphic torture in a religious context, sett's emotional maturity will surprise you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:15:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/potashiamu/pseuds/aphelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aphelios visits the caves of Mount Targon to replenish his supply of noctum. But when he drinks a fresh, especially potent distillation expecting to hear Alune, someone else comes through by accident. Unintended confessions ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aphelios/Sett (League of Legends)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Mangata [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>234</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You In Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An alternative summary for this story that didn't quite make the cut: Aphelios feels empty inside and Sett fills the void with his dick lmao<br/>As for warnings/notes:<br/>I can't take credit for the idea that the white Lunari hair and tattoos are tied to spiritual ability, and the fact that Aphelios has black hair and dark tattoos is emblematic that he has none. This was part of a lore discussion in the Aphelios Mains discord and I loved the idea the instant I saw it.<br/>The trauma that both have experienced in their lore will be addressed, and even though I love the Lunari so much I made them into assholes and there are non-graphic descriptions of religious rituals/purification that I would firmly categorize as torture.  Other than that the sex is explicitly described but totally consensual, and does include a bite that draws blood. Also, Sett has a potty mouth and swears a lot.<br/>Thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to leave such thoughtful reviews and nice lil kudos, you are the reason there is a sequel &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <strong>YOU IN ME</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>The blue petals of the noctum flowers seem to shiver under the pool’s surface, but whether it is reality or merely the tremours preceding the seismic impact of the poison, Aphelios cannot be sure.</p><p>He braces, swallowing the last mouthful of the distillation.</p><p>A moment passes, barely enough time for an inhale before the breath is severed, choked off.</p><p>Slipping from his fingers to the floor of the cave, the clatter of the drinking bowl bounces harshly off the stone, but it registers as little more than a muffled distortion in Aphelios’ eardrums. His every nerve is now turned inward, burning to the wick with the serrated agony induced by the poison; his whole body is frayed, twisted and ripped by the pain, but it is worst at the root of his tongue, the top of his throat. There it feels like a glowing ember sits, refusing to be swallowed, impossible to ever douse.</p><p>He crumples to a knee, hard enough that the pale flesh there will be bruised in an hour. It’s a sign that he’s either overdone it or this noctum was especially potent—both, probably. While the pain always feels like it’s unravelling him from the inside out, he can usually keep his footing even during the worst of it.</p><p>He can’t hear his own strangled breathing, infused with the smallest hint of his ruined voice. He can’t feel the dew of perspiration forming on his skin, enough that the black hair at his temples glistens. Then, another moment passes and the balance in his body capsizes, and he feels almost nothing at all.</p><p>Succumbing to the numb, muffling smother of the poison, he waits. The shift is impossible to articulate in words, but he knows the channel is open now (torn wide open, it feels like).</p><p>The Lunari rises to his feet, still waiting. Waiting for the voice of his sister, filigreed in moonlight and the delicate accent of their people.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>Extremely unusual… in fact, this silence has never happened before. The connection, the overlap between his sister and him is so automatic and consuming, he has never needed to call out for her attention. He might have felt perturbed otherwise, but under the stifling noctum he registers little more than the passing ghosts of emotions, so distant he can hardly name them.</p><p>
  <em>…Alune?</em>
</p><p>He waits again after mentally calling out to her. The channel is definitely open, he is sure because the absence of himself, the hollowness, is intense and pervasive.</p><p>But he does not hear his sister’s voice in reply. Instead, he senses an inquisitive prodding, the uncanny sensation of something checking the psychic boundaries of his mind. This would never happen with Alune, their connection is too natural. Even via telepathy, their communication is organic, they’d hardly needed to ‘learn’ how to talk with each other via thoughts, they’d done it automatically.</p><p><em>Concerned</em> is too strong a word to describe what Aphelios feels now, and he tugs on the mental thread with the methodical action of a problem solver, rather than someone worried about what this might mean. He focuses on the sensation, trying to pin the source like one might hover a hand over a river’s surface before striking to snatch out a fish.</p><p>“A… Aphelios…?”</p><p>The voice coming through is so unexpected that surprise manages to pierce through the unfeeling void, but the emotion dissipates too quickly.</p><p>“Sett…?” Aphelios asks back, via thought.</p><p>A blast of raw reaction blares over the connection, and while Aphelios is too distant from the emotions for any of them to resonate, their intensity is still evident, and predominantly positive.</p><p>“What the fuck?” The half-Vastayan returns, understandably. “I can hear you in my head, Phel. How’re ya doin’ that? Moon magic?”</p><p>Aphelios balks, a failure of logic. This shouldn’t be happening, he didn’t know he could do this with anyone other than his twin.</p><p>“I was trying to contact Alune,” he explains. “But I can only hear you. Which should not be possible. I can only channel those in the spirit realm, and even then, only Alune.”</p><p>Their connection crackles again—such a curious sensation—with another outpouring of Sett’s emotional reaction. It is completely different from talking with his sister, which for all intents and purposes feels like a normal conversation, just taking place mentally. Of course Alune has access to his memories and, when he feels them, his emotions too, but she is disciplined about experiencing them, almost never integrating them into their conversations; disciplined about when she injects her emotions into their interactions too.</p><p>With Sett, there is no discipline, no privacy. It is distinctly chaotic and immediate, much like the man himself.</p><p>“Well, I actually happen to be in the spirit realm right now,” Sett explains, his ‘voice’ losing the snags of hesitation and becoming more confident. “Bandle City. Apparently I’ve got enough Vastayan magic to be able to travel here, but let me tell ya, it was still a huge pain in the ass. Nearly choked out that little rat bastard Teemo because he was explaining it all wrong, made it way more complicated than it had to be.”</p><p>Aphelios digests this information, thinking incisively about this situation. Sett seems to be able to feel whatever vibes the Lunari is unintentionally projecting, because he remarks on them.</p><p>“Listen Phel, I didn’t mean to wreck whatever you’re doing. I can… it’s real weird, but I can <em>tell</em> you’re not happy.”</p><p>It’s somewhat unlike the man named <em>The Boss</em> to apologize so readily, but Aphelios doesn’t know this. Because he has little basis for comparison; unaware of how obvious the special affection Sett treats him with is in comparison to the pit boss’s dealings with others.</p><p>But Aphelios discards the statement, it is not useful to him right now, it has no place in his clinical dissection (and hopefully solving) of the bizarre matter at hand. He is about to reply when Sett’s voice emanates inside his mind again, the other never one to be able to stay quiet for very long.</p><p>“Ya see,” Sett resumes the thread of his earlier explanation, “I found out some little yordle fuck was stealing from me, and the bastard fled to Bandle City before I could get my hands on him. I really hate leaving shit like that unpunished, so I figured out how—”</p><p>“Sett.” The name is said with all the warmth of a honed knife, and their connection trembles, like Sett has shivered with the cold coming off of the assassin. “I just need to know what you were doing before you heard me. I need to know how this was possible because I need to shut it off, and speak with Alune.”</p><p>Aphelios <em>knows</em> there’s no way that his friend could have predicted when he’d be drinking noctum, they haven’t had contact in weeks. And from the time he’s known the other and their numerous interactions together, it doesn’t fit with Sett’s character to be sneaky or shady, purposefully resorting to sabotage or intrusion like this. And especially considering how naked Sett’s private emotions and thoughts are—Aphelios keeps ‘seeing’ glimpses of them, but they are incoherent enough and irrelevant right now, so Aphelios can easily brush them aside—Sett would never think to pull off such a crazy scheme. This must have happened through some nearly impossible accident.</p><p>A tidal wave of feeling crashes from Sett’s side of the connection, sufficiently specific and intense that it penetrates the fog of poison. Aphelios realizes at length that Sett is embarrassed.</p><p>“Uh, um.. well, ya see mooncake—”</p><p><em>Mooncake. Kiddo. Doll. Dork. Moon boy. Moon kid. Bunny. Phel.</em> Sett’s nicknames for him are copious and liberally used, but they never fail to incite a little pinch of something within Aphelios’ heart upon hearing them. Apparently, even inside the atrophied vacancy induced by the noctum, something registers—a little blip strong enough that Sett feels it, too.</p><p>Warmth floods through.</p><p>“You like that?” Even mentally like this, the pleased smirk in Sett’s voice is so clear. “I never knew you liked all those dumb names I gave ya. Kinda surprised, actually. Now I ain’t never gonna stop usin’ em.”</p><p>Without being able to prevent it because he doesn’t realize it himself, Aphelios reacts. And because there isn’t even the semblance of a barrier between the two men, Sett receives it immediately.</p><p>“Now you’re gettin’ shy on me,” Sett purrs.</p><p>Their connection is much too powerful, if the other man can read even the faint nanosecond of feeling before it’s drowned out in the emptiness of the noctum essence. Before Aphelios can feel the feelings himself.</p><p>“Back to business,” Aphelios replies unironically, his only focus on decoding, and thus, moving on from, this predicament. “What were you doing before you heard me?”</p><p>The turbulence of the emotions coming from Sett’s side quiets slightly, becoming a little more focused, the Vastayan understanding that the Lunari truly isn’t interested. If Aphelios was sensible to the more abstract feelings, he would have been able to decipher that the cool depth colouring Sett’s side was profound disappointment.</p><p>“Honestly? I was thinking of you, how it’s been a while since I saw ya. I remember wishing I could talk with bunny boy again right now, wondering what you’d think of this place if you could get here.”</p><p>A stubborn little flicker again, sparkling at the pet name. In the times that Aphelios had interacted with Sett under the drastically reduced influence of noctum, those little names would set his heart pounding against his ribs, hard enough that he was petrified Sett’s sensitive ears would pick up his racing pulse. He would tell himself that Sett just seemed the type to call anyone whatever he felt like, that there was no point reading anything into it.</p><p>Not that Aphelios can really remember any of that right now, he’s too submerged. Only these tiny wisps can brush through the numbness.</p><p>“So, you essentially wished to speak with me, right as I was opened up by the noctum.” Aphelios pauses, considering. He assumes that Sett can feel his machinations and the other will wait patiently for—</p><p>A flash. An image spliced into their dialogue, but crystal clear, penetrating the vague haze of not-so-private thoughts swirling between them behind their words.</p><p>Aphelios sees himself: he’s looking down at himself, likely from the vantage point Sett has as the taller man. Well, it’s a facsimile of himself, anyway. Aphelios’ pale skin isn’t <em>really</em> that luminous, his dark eyes not nearly that enchanting or vibrant. He sees his own lips—lips full, beautiful, accentuated with exquisite violet—twitch up, the slightest smile, before the scene is burned away in the shine of happiness.</p><p>It’s so intense, it’s astounding.</p><p>“…Is that… that’s how you see me?” Aphelios realizes that he has just seen himself as Sett does, as Sett remembers him. Maybe the Vastayan has even less of an eye for detail than Aphelios had assumed because Sett’s mental image of him is quite literally flawless. But it doesn’t even feel deliberate, it’s leaking into their interaction despite the fact that Sett doesn’t seem like he’d intended to share it.</p><p>“Uh, yeah? I guess…” Sett’s ‘voice’ is stammering, manifesting his clumsily racing thoughts. “It’s just how ya look. It’s only natural to picture you while we’re talkin’ like this.”</p><p>The Lunari hesitates. Either there are new rules with this new connection, or the noctum is wearing off faster than ever before, because he <em>feels</em> something, long enough and strong enough that even he can label it. A moment of yearning.</p><p>Of course, this is telegraphed loud and clear for Sett; Aphelios would have been overcome with horrified mortification to be laid so bare like this for his friend, but he’s already back to the glacial hollowness carved out by the poison.</p><p>“Seems like ya really miss me too, doll.” The Vastayan is pleased, that much is obvious. “I never knew… well, I just never figured…”</p><p>Sett’s thoughts devolve back into emotional incoherence, but again, their tint is overwhelmingly positive. Aphelios doesn’t understand how intensely grateful, how thrilled the other is to be receiving this intimate insight, even so dulled, into the young man who can be so hard to read. How he’s thinking this might be one of the best things to ever happen to him, being connected like this with the guy he basically fell for at first sight when they met a couple years ago. Sett is extremely lucky that the noctum blurs the outlines of such tender confessions, turning them much more indistinct before they reach Aphelios. The fighter has never been one for much discipline with his thoughts—for much thinking at all—least of all in times like this when he’s so excited.</p><p>But the Lunari can already hardly remember how he feels about Sett, how good it feels to be near him, how he wonders what he’s up to when their orbits pull them apart. The frigid apathy suffusing his heart makes it so that it might as well be a stranger who had ever felt or thought those things.</p><p>“Try and sever it, Sett. Think about closing me off, we will see if that works.”</p><p>Confusion at the non-sequitur. Then, Sett’s earlier disappointment bottoms out into a truly earnest sadness, entwined with comprehension. This Aphelios is a man in the embrace of the poison, the relentless assassin operating on instinct, training, automation. It’s hard to recognize his moon bunny in there, and Sett tries not to take it personally, and fails.</p><p>“Yeah, sure. Givin’ it a try now. Got business to attend to anyway…”</p><p>“Goodbye, Sett.” The words should feel like the slam of a door, the locking of a gate. But both men wait, and despite trying as earnestly as he’s capable of, Sett can’t cut off Aphelios.</p><p>Whether it’s a matter of insufficient willpower or just being a total novice with channeling like this, it’s hard to say.</p><p>They both wait more, the equivalent of static white noise filling their conduit.</p><p>“…Moon boy?” Sett tests, after waiting far longer than he thought he was able to.</p><p>The pinprick of something like irritation emanates from Aphelios’ side, gone in the instant it manifests.</p><p>“Did you think of severing the connection?”</p><p>“Yeah, I tried. Doesn’t seem to have worked though, sorry Phel—”</p><p>“Try once more.” Not bossy, not terse, but firm, determined merely to advance to the next step. Sett’s heart throbs a little at the fact he’s an annoyance to the Lunari right now, and once again he’s lucky that this micro-thought doesn’t quite penetrate the veil in its articulated entirety.</p><p>Sett tries, really tries, because as much as he misses and (barely secretly) adores Aphelios, he appreciates the necessity of a mission, understands that holding him back from contacting his sister might even be a matter of life and death. So he really, <em>really</em> tries.</p><p>To no avail.</p><p>“It’s fine, Sett.” Aphelios dictates this without sensitivity, and so it comes across as bizarre, considering it might have been an attempt to comfort Sett’s frustrated guilt, broadcasting so loudly.</p><p>“…And you can’t hear Alune at all?”</p><p>“No,” Aphelios confirms. “I can only assume I am able to provide a conduit for one person at a time.”</p><p>“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while, then,” Sett’s thoughts come, rueful and regretful simultaneously.</p><p>Aphelios doesn’t answer, instead turning his concentration inwards, almost meditating, trying to deafen himself to Sett, if shutting him out completely has failed.</p><p>The Vastayan of course can feel this distance immediately, Aphelios keeping him at arm’s length, and it makes his big heart in his huge chest sink. He’d met the other many times and always under the influence of noctum, but never when the poison is coursing this fresh. So he is used to there still being a willingness about the Lunari, although in varying degrees of intensity; a willingness to engage with Sett, to communicate (communication being an awfully generous word, since it mainly consisted of Sett incessantly blabbing and Aphelios offering attentive hums of agreement or concern or curiosity). Some times more ready and more willing than other times, but never a complete eclipse like this.</p><p>A particularly vehement emotion runs its fingertips along the curtain Aphelios has attempted to hang between them, making the inadequate barrier disintegrate completely. Sett is afraid.</p><p>Without meaning to, and perhaps because as an assassin he is most intimate with fear above all else, Aphelios probes the reason. This active search, this desire to receive clarification, is met with an intensification of their connection, plunging both of them into transparent intimacy.</p><p>Aphelios sees what Sett is envisioning, the thought implanted in his own mind as if it belongs to him. Sett is imagining the next time they meet, and Aphelios watches himself as he turns away, rejecting the Vastayan and ending their camaraderie for good. Sett is afraid he’s alienated himself from Aphelios permanently, now that he’s been too close, and more essentially, interfered with what he assumes to be an important mission, a boundary he never meant to cross with the devoted Lunari.</p><p>Automatically, Aphelios switches and assumes his own perspective in this hypothetical, regarding the giant, muscle bound man wearing his broken heart on his sleeve. The younger man is very familiar—much more than Sett would ever guess—with the language of Sett’s large, red ears; and inadvertently he pictures how they’d be drooping if Sett were to ever truly be in such a dejected mood. The imaginary scenario produces little more than a twinge behind Aphelios’ breastbone, but Sett is immersed afresh into their startling, unintentional candour.</p><p>For he has understood immediately, seeing the same images Aphelios does in his mind’s eye, the attention the Lunari has paid to him, the fascination he has with his ears, one of the most sensitive parts of Sett’s body. With the clumsy brute force of one his punches, Sett accidentally broadcasts a long-cherished fantasy, helpless as it roars across their connection.</p><p>For a split second, he imagines Aphelios’ long, slender fingers, covered in black gloves like a second skin, scratching at the base of those ears. The frisson of pleasure it would induce, chased swiftly by heady warmth that incandesces every inch of Sett’s body.</p><p>The vividness, the simplicity of this little daydream, astonishes Aphelios even through the stupor of the noctum. He is at a loss for words, and so is Sett, when he realizes what he has revealed.</p><p>If he were any less in the clutches of the poison, Aphelios would have flushed crimson, being bashful and shy by nature, and inexperienced on top of it. Perhaps he is blushing now, and he just can’t feel it.</p><p>“…You want people to scratch your ears?” Sett should be exalting that he’s managed to distract Aphelios even in this state, but he’s busy accidentally revealing more of his secret heart instead.</p><p>“Only you,” the thought/speech arrives before its owner can intercept it, and attempt to hide it.</p><p>“Fuck,” Sett then thinks immediately, realizing that Aphelios <em>must</em> had heard that, must understand the implications even under these circumstances.</p><p>There’s an intangible sensation, something akin to the first crackles one hears from ice thawing in early spring.</p><p>Sett never meant to confess this way, never intended on confessing at all. Sure, it was painful to have carried a torch for someone for more than two years, much less when their obligations meant that they met seldomly, and when so, briefly. But for all of his bravado in every other area, when it came to handling his moon boy, Sett became uncharacteristically cautious, gentle, tentative. Only when around Aphelios was he at all caring of his brashness, of his violence, his intensity, his potential carelessness. He never wanted to be careless or thoughtless around the Lunari, because for all the respect Sett had for the assassin’s evident strength and capability, there was something fragile about Aphelios that compelled the Vastayan to cherish him. Similar to the way that even a brute might avoid stepping on a particularly stunning flower.</p><p>“I like it,” comes Aphelios’ ‘voice,’ startling both of them. Aphelios is mildly surprised that he can remember such an impression so distinctly right now, that’s not how it usually works, and Sett is… well, Sett is shaken to his core; brain dumb and buzzing wordlessly with pleasure.</p><p>Aphelios feels the urgent, innocent curiosity asking him exactly <em>what</em> he likes, and for some reason, he obliges.</p><p>“I like your brashness, how loud you are. How much space you take up. I like how irreverent you can be. Opposite of me.”</p><p>A silent moment while the message is received, digested, before an explosion rocks the tether between them. Sett’s pure, ecstatic joy detonates with the impact of a warehouse of hexplosives. It is so strong that it manages to touch Aphelios—really touch him, lingering deeply in his heart—not just grazing the Lunari’s soul before whispering away.</p><p>“Mooncake…”</p><p>Abstractly, Aphelios comes to the realization that he’s in trouble, that he will remember this, perhaps too vividly once the noctum wears off, and that this new mutual understanding of just how much affection each holds for the other will, at the very least, makes things excruciatingly difficult.</p><p>He realizes belatedly that Sett had occupied his thoughts while he harvested the noctum blossoms, while he ground them with mortar and pestle, while he diluted the concoction with water. And not just in those moments… Aphelios had been thinking of Sett for weeks, since he had last been able to meet the Vastayan in Ionia for information collection.</p><p>So it wasn’t entirely Sett’s ‘fault’ this connection had been forged; Aphelios had unintentionally, subconsciously reached out for the beast-man in the moment he had opened himself as a conduit. Coincidentally being in Bandle City, it was the first time Sett had been able to reach right back.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sett was smitten the first time he saw Aphelios, and as with many aspects of his behaviour, he was single-minded and a bit juvenile about it. Not to imply that he had sufficient insight in those early moments to identify what it was he was feeling; he instead pursued the Lunari entirely on pure instinct, for reasons he didn’t really bother to interrogate. ‘Because he felt like it’ was justification enough.</p><p>Sitting at the bar, alone, in a dingy Navori tavern, Sett had thought Aphelios stuck out like a sore thumb. No—scratch that—Aphelios stuck out like a dark bloom amongst the chaff. Even in the murky lighting, the quicksilver embellishments on the smaller man’s robes had glinted, winking like stars. The broad shoulder pads of his coat only accentuated his wasp-waist (<em>where does he keep all his guts?</em> Sett had wondered) and the grace of even his smallest movements—picking up his sake glass, smoothening the hem of his scarf—had reinforced the impression that this other person was inhuman. But most of all, Sett was fascinated by the violet markings etched into skin so pale it looked translucent; a crescent moon cleaving through his right eye, a trail of purple starting thickly on his bottom lip, narrowing to the apex of his chin.</p><p>Without much finesse and even less forethought, Sett had strayed from the motley crew of staff and fighters he’d brought with him for a round of drinks, and approached the stranger.</p><p>Sett had inhaled to speak, no words or attention-getting touches yet, and already the stranger was turned towards him, as if knowing he was coming and wanting to assess him beforehand. A brief glance, roaming from the tips of Sett’s Vastayan ears, down his face and across the breadth of his massive body. Any conclusions drawn were unreadable on that pale face, and when the dark gaze found Sett’s own again, he felt a chill. There was a vacancy in those eyes… no, perhaps not quite a vacancy, but a sense of removal, of distance. As if the smaller man wasn’t entirely present, or perhaps was sharing his eyes with something not totally of this plane.</p><p>Again, Sett wasn’t one given to ruminations or second guessing himself, so despite the momentary frigidity, he stolidly struck up conversation anyway.</p><p>“Hey there,” he grinned, displaying his sharp canines. The dark man seemed as unphased by them as he had been with Sett’s ears. “What’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this?”</p><p>A cheesy line, one he used frequently, but it almost never mattered. Any time Sett found a shiny new plaything, the attraction was always mutual. You didn’t need to learn how to hone your tools if even your bluntest ones did the trick.</p><p>The smaller man replied by way of a languid blink, his long eyelashes casting a shadow on his cheeks for a moment. But in Sett’s book, just a damn blink was no reply at all.</p><p>“Cat got your tongue?” Sett allowed a roughness to deepen his voice a little, not quite a growl. He was quick to anger, and nothing lit his fire quite like feeling disrespected. The other spared him maybe a moment or two more of eye contact, before returning his attention to his sake cup, lifting it to his lips and sipping from it before setting it down again, essentially ignoring the man standing beside him.</p><p>Sett was getting mad now, aware that his cronies would be looking over at him from their table, aware that he, <em>The Boss</em>, was getting rejected for the first time in a long time, and rather publicly. Now, Sett was determined to yield an answer from the other man, failing to recognize or care that this stranger he was bugging owed him nothing at all.</p><p>“Hey bud,” Sett’s giant hand sunk heavily onto the other’s shoulder, the Vastayan knowing and enjoying the stranger would be feeling its oppressive weight. “I really don’t like being ignored. So, you can answer my question or tell me to buzz off, but either way you’re gonna say something.”</p><p>“Begging your pardon, Boss,” the bartender cut in from behind the counter, deferential with Sett, who was one of his regular and usually best customers (except for the occasions on which Sett drank too much, got pissed off at some slight, real or imagined, and destroyed humans and furniture as a consequence). “That one’s a mute. Been stayin’ here a few days is how I know, best not to take it personally.”</p><p>Sett’s ears flickered, a signal of his renewed, intense interest.</p><p>“Actually,” the bartender continued, tone especially placating and jovial, probably still trying to avoid an expensive brawl, “it’s great luck you two should make acquaintances. This here fellow’s been looking for information, and I said if anyone ‘round these parts has good intel, it’s you, Boss. Told him he’d have to pay for it, though.”</p><p>The stranger showed no sign of umbrage taken at being talked over like he was inanimate, and even at the bartender’s prompting, demonstrated no indication of any eagerness to deal with Sett, for information or otherwise.</p><p>But no sooner had the barman finished speaking and Sett was grinning again, digging in his pockets for some gold coins to shove in front of his inadvertent wingman.</p><p>“Another round for this guy, then,” Sett pulled a nearby stool closer with a scraping sound, mounting it. “And I’ll have whatever he’s having.”</p><p>The bartender nodded. “Sure thing, Boss.”</p><p>Sett propped a meaty forearm on the counter, his body facing the stranger. “So. Mute, huh? But you can still hear me? If you tell me what kinda info you’re lookin’ for, I can see if I feel like sharing it with ya.”</p><p>Finally, dark eyes slid up to meet golden ones, and with a little quickening of his pulse, Sett realized that this stranger’s irises were a deep purple; not the pitch black he’d assumed in the poor light. Enamoured, the beast-man watched as the other withdrew something from the folds of his robes, gestures unhurried, delicate, dancer-like. In gloved hands came a small sheaf of writing paper, and a dusky nub of a charcoal pencil.</p><p><em>Terms first</em>.</p><p>Sett stared at the few letters written in thin, slanting penmanship. Slim and lithe, like their writer, and nothing like Sett’s own chicken scratch when he could be bothered to write at all.</p><p>“No negotiation terms necessary,” Sett replied impulsively, grasping for the drink the bartender put in front of him, showboating for the stranger and draining it in one gulp. “If I can, I’ll help ya. If it’s just info, it’s no big deal. And ‘sides, I’m the one who bothered you first. I don’t wanna owe ya.”</p><p>Maybe the stranger <em>was</em> deaf, because the flirtatious music in Sett’s voice didn’t seem to resonate <em>at all</em>. And that just didn’t happen when the beast-man flirted. But now that Sett had an ‘in’ and a goal, he was a little more patient; able to give the other man some space so long as their interaction continued. Sett was confident he’d get what he wanted by the end of the night, he always did.</p><p>The other man went a little more still than he had just been, and something prickled Sett’s Vastayan magic, making his fur stand on end. He had the uncanny sensation that the stranger was <em>talking</em> with someone, even though his lips weren't moving, and all the hard evidence he had was the slightly longer hesitation in the man’s hand before he set the charcoal to the page again.</p><p>
  <em>Looking for a woman from Targon. White hair, tattoos like mine but white too.</em>
</p><p>“Fuck. Targon?” Sett grunted, somewhat impressed. Targon was damn far, but it went a long way to explain the unusual garb and carriage of the smaller man. All that Sett knew of Targon was that it was home to a bunch of sun worshippers, and that the place was (in his words) ‘harsh as fuck.’ But the man before him didn’t seem like a sun worshipper, all in shades of night and quicksilver, and if the moon marking on his face was anything to go by, perhaps said sun worshippers were part of this stranger’s problems.</p><p>“Well kiddo, sorry to say but it doesn’t ring any bells. And if she’s anything like you, I imagine she’d have stood out.”</p><p>Again, the other man was either oblivious or uncaring because Sett’s wink garnered no reaction. Instead, the stranger just offered a slight nod, tinged with the first categorizable emotion he had displayed: resignation. But despite the deepened sullenness of his target, the beast-man was nowhere near done shooting his shot.</p><p>“Doesn’t mean I can’t still help ya, though,” he said, glancing at a cowlick on the crown of the stranger’s head, a little piece of hair that refused to lay flat. It struck Sett as ridiculously adorable, and he was overcome by the urge to groom the other. Substantially more tender an impulse in comparison to the other urges the man inspired in him.</p><p>“If you’re staying here for a few more days, you can come by the pit, and I may have something for you by the weekend.”</p><p>There was a pensive cast to the man’s face, and more of that otherworldly impression that he was having a hidden conversation. The resignation didn’t fade, but the stranger gave a curt nod again, unconsciously twirling the pencil across his long fingers as he thought, before gripping it to write with again.</p><p><em>Payment</em>.</p><p>Sett may have been straight-forward to the point of some calling him simple, but he wasn’t stupid, not when it came to matters of business. He knew what the other meant immediately.</p><p>“Yeah,” he confirmed, “you’re right. That’s gonna go beyond a simple favour, if I’m gonna actually put work into this and use my connections. Even someone like you has gotta pay, moon boy.”</p><p>The pet name had slipped out, Sett hardly realizing until a miniscule scrunch tightened the bridge of the man’s nose. <em>Cute</em>, <em>real cute,</em> Sett thought. He watched as the stranger wrote what he thought was a foreign word, the dark letters materializing on the paper.</p><p><em>Aphelios</em>.</p><p>“Aphelios…?” Sett sounded out before understanding. “Ah, that’s your name I take it?”</p><p>A nod. Sett’s heart was fibrillating with excitement; now the stranger wasn’t really a stranger anymore. The man, Aphelios, continued writing.</p><p><em>And you’re The Boss</em>.</p><p>The Vastayan chuckled, canines flashing. So, Aphelios <em>could</em> be a little cheeky, despite looking like he was carved out of moonstone. “Yeah, that’s right. But you can also call me Sett.”</p><p>Another nod, which was fine. But Sett would have liked to see something else… Aphelios hadn’t smiled once.</p><p><em>3 days</em>.</p><p>“Sure,” the Vastayan agreed. “If you come to the pit in three days with uh… fifty gold, I’ll probably have somethin’ for ya.”</p><p>Fifty gold wasn’t even a quarter of what he usually bled out of people who were looking to leverage Sett’s network, but Aphelios didn’t need to know that. Or… maybe he did, so he would feel the need to ingratiate himself with Sett…</p><p>“You know where the pit is already?” Sett checked, Aphelios confirming with another nod. And then, with body language that clearly conveyed their interaction was over for now, Aphelios rose from his stool, that same spectral fluidity infusing all his movements. He was much taller than Sett had thought at first, probably about six feet, which although it meant he was about two feet shorter than Sett, he was still tall for a human. Most of it was in his legs—long and toned and exactly the type meant to be draped over the beast-man’s shoulders.</p><p>He hadn’t touched the drink Sett had bought for him, but the Vastayan didn’t notice.</p><p>Should he let this man go for now, as he clearly wanted to, and instead reel him in when he came to visit in three days’ time? Sett’s scheming was interrupted by one of his employees approaching, telling him the crew was planning on heading to the next place already. In the moment he’d spent focused on talking with the woman, Aphelios had receded, disappearing like a velvet shadow up the stairs to the inn portion, leaving Sett feeling excited but unfulfilled. With a growl of enjoyment, Sett rose and went to rejoin his cronies, though it took a while before he was really able to lose himself in the debauchery of the rest of the evening.</p><p>A few of the people closer to him had risked a little playful ribbing about Sett’s new ‘friend,’ especially when Sett was caught admiring the full moon, hanging swollen and abundant in the night sky, an action that read as hilariously sentimental in a man who was normally devoted to pastimes like cracking his knuckles and thinking about the vault of gold he was the proud owner of.</p><p>But the dark stranger was soon dropped as a topic of conversation, exchanged for more practical matters, such as where they were going to get the next round of drinks and if Sett’s friend’s brothel was open for business that night. They discovered a few hours later that it was, and after fucking the brains out of a prostitute with dark hair and white skin it appeared that Sett had mostly gotten Aphelios out of his system.</p><p>So much so, that when Aphelios came to his pit on the agreed day, Sett kept him waiting around for hours, prioritizing other business, not truly caring enough that it could be said he was doing it to be petty. It was more so that now the other wasn’t directly in front of him, Sett’s fascination had waned, and he was treating the other like he would any ordinary client, with a policy that amounted to <em>get in line</em>.</p><p>But all it took was a look, Sett’s pupils contracting to slits as he watched Aphelios approach his desk, and the Vastayan was lost once more to the quicksand of infatuation.</p><p>And this time, it didn’t cool once Aphelios departed; though it might fade in and out of Sett’s conscious attention, he’d still find himself wondering when the Lunari would visit again, what he was going through as he searched for the woman, for Diana.</p><p>For in that meeting in Sett’s private office, the information he’d collected about the Aspect of the Moon served as a key to unlock a little of Aphelios himself; the Vastayan had learned enough about the white-haired woman to draw conclusions about the raven-haired man in front of him, and what he didn’t feel safe assuming, he asked about bluntly.</p><p>Most astonishingly was how forthcoming Aphelios was with his answers, and this was what made Sett like him so much. No beating around the bush. When it was clear Sett had gathered enough info about the Lunari, or about Diana or Aphelios himself, the assassin didn’t bother trying to outwit or deny, though he didn’t go out of his way to volunteer new information Sett hadn’t uncovered. And the fact that Aphelios didn’t throw a fit over being made to wait so long, Sett liked that a lot too. Too many people with inflated egos had picked fights with him over Sett not being deferential enough with them, and even though it was fair to be pissed about someone wasting your time, it was one of Sett’s pet peeves. Whether it was calculated or just lucky, it happened to be the perfect strategy for dealing with the pit boss, and Sett found himself willing to forge a long working relationship, and wanting to avoid disappointing Aphelios.</p><p>And so the Vastayan put genuine effort into helping Aphelios locate the woman he was searching for, making sure he had real, actionable intelligence by the time the Lunari would return to Ionia after pursuing older leads. The first few times were much like the initial exchange, but it was on their fourth meeting like this that Sett’s sharp senses noticed something; that the fifty gold Aphelios handed him as their agreed fee had left the man’s coin purse completely depleted.</p><p>Knowing better than to address something that potentially sensitive head on, instead Sett had invited the other to dine with him, worried he’d have to go hungry, constructing an elaborate pretense like it hardly mattered whether Aphelios tagged along or not, that Sett had had these dinner plans for days. Perhaps he’d felt emboldened by the fact that there was an especial liveliness in Aphelios’ purple eyes that evening—he usually looked so exhausted or so remote or both. Sett was jubilant when the other accepted, to his pleasant surprise.</p><p>It was the first time Sett heard his voice, and the day that, if the Vastayan had sufficient insight to identify it, Sett really fell for Aphelios.</p><p>Sett had taken them to his favourite restaurant, one that served delicacies from all over Runeterra, which they ate on the terrace under a lattice of wisteria flowers and, perhaps not coincidentally, another full moon. The beast-man revelled in many things, the fact that Aphelios seemed to be markedly more comfortable around him, was not so stilting and abrupt when they interacted now, and that there was an actual spark of interest in the Lunari’s eyes when Sett filled the silence with his prattle. While the expressions of the other certainly couldn’t be called obvious, in contrast with the frozen mask Sett had been dealing with until now, he could tell there was something much more open and receptive, much more engaged, about Aphelios that night.</p><p>Perhaps that was why he felt bold enough to say something about it, and to Sett’s delight, Aphelios reacted to the probing with a willingness to answer. Though it took a little while and several sheets of paper to explain, it was how Sett found out about the noctum—how it worked, why Aphelios drank it, and the consequences it had for him physically and emotionally.</p><p>“Damn, Phel,” Sett had murmured with genuine sympathy in his voice. The Vastayan had no way of knowing how hearing this nickname from the lips of someone other than his twin rocked Aphelios’ heart. “Really sucks you can’t see your sister anymore. If someone kept me from seein’ my Ma I think I’d tear the world apart just tryin’ to get her back.” Then, seeing what may have been Aphelios shifting uncomfortably in his chair, continued, “but I get it. The survival of your people is on the line here. Even though I could care less what happens to any Vastaya pricks, I still understand why people protect their tribe. Can’t believe everyone’s okay with you drinkin’ that shit though, you don’t let people you care about wreck their bodies or their voices like that.”</p><p>Sett watched the charcoal pencil that was being twirled between Aphelios’ fingers, something the Lunari did without even realizing, expecting it to write some more words. Perhaps a clarification or gentle rebuttal of Sett’s judgement. Instead, Aphelios inclined his head and stared straight at Sett, a complex, meaningful expression on his face. It took a moment before the Vastayan comprehended what that look meant, what the tint of rueful sadness mixed with peaceful acceptance conveyed. No one <em>did</em> care about Aphelios enough to stop him from taking the poison. At least, no one still in the physical realm, and even then it didn’t take a genius to understand that Alune would never want or be able to tell her brother to dismantle the singular bridge that still connected them… especially not when that would render all their sacrifices, bearable only in service of a lofty goal, pointless.</p><p>Heart twisting and ears twitching as he processed this, Sett came to a quick and straightforward conclusion: that he would take care of Aphelios. That this dark, gorgeous man occupied much the same lonely place in life that Sett did, a living steeped in such cruelty that it dug a hole in you, whether you were careful to avoid it or not. Sett was certainly occupied with dumping money and influence and respect in that metaphorical hole, trying to fill it. But the only thing that ever really soothed him was spending time with his Ma.</p><p>Sett was far from an unfeeling brute; a knuckle-dragger with nothing but his most base instincts like almost everyone assumed. It was just that so many of the people he met weren’t deserving of his feelings. He didn’t owe shit to a world that had basically spat on him since birth, when it could be bothered to acknowledge the beast-boy bastard at all. The little pitter-patter of Sett’s pulse as he watched Aphelios bring a succulent morsel of food to his lips was indication enough that the Lunari was one of those rare people that made Sett <em>feel</em>. Made him mindful.</p><p>Caught. Aphelios must have noticed Sett’s eager observation of him eating, because he adroitly divided a bite of the meal off with his chopsticks, and, instantly flustering the Vastayan into a crimson blush, held it out for Sett to take.</p><p>Flustered or not, Sett didn’t hesitate, his teeth scraping against the wood of the utensils that Sett couldn’t help but think of having just been inside Aphelios’ own mouth. As he licked his lips and grinned, Sett imagined the Lunari’s mouth around <em>him</em>, growing instantly hard. Somewhat at odds with the tender feelings he’d just been entertaining a moment before, but as he had yet to learn, both came from the same source.</p><p>“Yeah, real tasty,” Sett said lowly, expending a moment concentrating on not leaping on the other right then and there. Aphelios might have noticed this struggle too, for the moonlight caught his eye with a discerning sparkle, filled with what might be playful curiosity. But the glimmer just reminded Sett of something else he’d wanted to ask, which was impressive, considering how much of his blood was currently not being used to facilitate coherent thinking.</p><p>“So, is that why you seem different tonight? Comin’ off the noctum?”</p><p>It was Aphelios’ turn to blush, Sett had caught him totally off-guard. After thinking for a moment, Aphelios picked up his pencil.</p><p><em>I didn’t know the change was that obvious</em>.</p><p>“It’s obvious to me, doll. Maybe it’s just ‘cause I pay so much attention to ya. But seein’ you actually react, bein’ able to read ya a little more… I’m really enjoyin’ myself.”</p><p>Sett hadn’t overtly flirted with Aphelios since their first encounter, not that his desire to do so had waned, but it was more evidence that he wanted to be more careful around the other, that he cared more about Aphelios’ feelings than getting laid. He might need to blame thinking with his rock-hard dick if this renewed overture landed sourly with the Lunari.</p><p>But he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Shyly, Aphelios wrote, pulling the paper close to him so Sett couldn’t peek at the words before he was done. But once finished (it didn’t take long) with a decisive motion he rotated the page and pushed it firmly in front of Sett for the Vastayan to read.</p><p><em>Me too</em>.</p><p>Then:</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>In hardly more than a whisper. Muddled almost to the point of slurring due to the numbness from the noctum that lingered even now, Aphelios spoke. Sett’s ears twitched hard towards the sound, wanting to soak every vibration of it in, funneling the exuberant warmth into the pit of Sett’s stomach where it turned the butterflies fluttering there into a cyclone.</p><p>“Thanks for…?” Sett asked before thinking, words spilling from his tongue automatically, enspelled by the other man, half-hoping that the word spoken would be followed by another, but it was clear from the hand that Aphelios brought to massage his throat and the couple breathy coughs that came instead that the limited use afforded to Aphelios of his own voice had been spent.</p><p>Long, gloved fingertips pressed on the paper, pulling it back in front of the Lunari so he could write more by way of reply.</p><p>
  <em>For all the information at such a cheap price.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For the delicious meal.</em>
</p><p>Aphelios paused, black nub of the charcoal pressed against the page as if it would draw its letters any moment, held back only by its owner’s second-guessing. Sett watched as whatever internal debate Aphelios was conducting concluded, his eyes remaining demurely downcast as he wrote the last line and pushed it back for Sett to read.</p><p><em>And for the good company</em>.</p><p>A compliment? Was Aphelios flirting back? No… probably not. Well, maybe?</p><p>…What was it about Aphelios that made Sett so tentative, suddenly so willing to let things take their course? Sett had always been the type of man to pluck fruit off the vine even if it wasn’t ripe, merely because he felt like eating <em>now</em>. Not with Aphelios.</p><p>With the Lunari, Sett wondered things. Tried to predict the consequences of his actions and behave accordingly so that a negative outcome could be avoided (although he definitely didn’t manage to curb himself at all times). He found himself afraid to take things too far, in case it made Aphelios decide that would be the last time they’d meet. And he found himself wondering what would even ever be able to happen if he <em>did</em> take things far enough. It would still take Sett the rest of the year and a few more times of meeting Aphelios for him to understand that his hesitation came from the desire to be with Aphelios, a yearning to share life with him. If it had been merely the reductive desire to fuck him, well, he would have been fine going for it; either he got laid or he got rejected, but it’d be one night only.</p><p>Sett didn’t want one night.</p><p>As they met again and again, sometimes with months in between, Sett took great care to learn more about Aphelios, to make him feel comfortable, to get as close to spoiling him as he could without being embarrassingly obvious about it. After that night they first shared a meal together, Sett refused to accept further payment for the information he gathered about Diana. He’d told Aphelios that he could owe him once he got something real and good, but that moon boy could keep his coins since Sett felt a little bad about the lack of hard evidence any of his leads had yielded. In response, Aphelios had smiled gratefully, and Sett felt like he’d been overpaid.</p><p>Through the months, Sett learned about the object of his adoration through black words on white paper; once business was settled they would go out together, to restaurants, luxurious liquor bars, sometimes the coast just to walk. Aphelios got to know Sett much sooner, given that the beast-man was almost always blabbering about anything and everything. Though, in fairness to Sett, he found himself being serious and genuine more often than not with Aphelios; wanting to be truly seen and known by the other and making the effort to be vulnerable.</p><p>But Sett learned more about the Lunari too, from Aphelios and from his own intel network; what the tribe was like, what they’d been through since the Solari rise to power, the sun-worshippers only narrowly failing to exterminate their enemy. What Sett discovered exclusively through his intel was that there had been an incident several years back—an absolute massacre of Solari soldiers, their rotting corpses found in what was suspected to be Lunari territory. The rumours whispered that the carnage was dealt by the hands of a singular man, one who’d had his tongue ripped out during Solari torture and had exacted his revenge. Sett knew these things got distorted and was sure that, since the truth of the noctum hadn’t been spread, someone had gotten creative with an alternate explanation for the man without a voice. Never mentioning it to Aphelios, though he suspected the other knew that he knew, Sett understood that the pretty mute—the one who would cup flowers in his hands to smell them but never pluck them, who would hold up Ionian seashells for Sett to look at under the moonlight on their beach walks, who once drew a tiny, sweet caricature of Sett that the Vastayan had immediately asked to keep—was the man who had killed so many that it had made the secretive affairs between the Solari and the Lunari very public.</p><p>Instead, what he would learn from Aphelios himself were the details about his childhood with Alune. That even long before the noctum had taken his voice, Aphelios and Alune had learned sign language so they could crack jokes with each other during ceremonies when the elders weren’t looking. How Aphelios knew 6 different ways to braid hair, how much he missed the feeling of Alune’s in his hands. That on the days when Alune was taken in for training as a seer—increasing in frequency until it became every day—Aphelios would sit outside the temple and wait for her.</p><p>And when Sett had brought up something seemingly mundane he’d discovered in his intelligence gathering—that the Lunari were known for their white hair, so why was moon boy’s so black—Aphelios had trusted him enough to share that his darkness was a physical emblem of his lack of spiritual ability. Far from being considered beautiful, it made him an outcast amongst the Lunari who prized the metaphysical so highly, even while they let Aphelios bleed himself and poison himself to protect them with his weapons and physical strength. Sett had only calmed down when he realized how hard Aphelios was trying to comfort <em>him</em>, even though he was the one being used like a tool. It incensed the Vastayan, but he committed to keeping a lid on it because it was about Phel, not about how much he’d like to punch some Lunari lights out. Though it always left a truly bitter taste in Sett’s mouth whenever he thought about how those indigo markings he found so spellbinding were little better than the photo negative of the more highly prized, white tattoos the rest of Aphelios’ kinsmen wore.</p><p>There were also times where Aphelios would check in at Sett’s offices and, having taken the noctum very recently and his connection with Alune especially vibrant, Sett could see her with his Vastayan magic out of the corner of his eye. Lingering behind her beloved brother, with a contented look on her face, <em>almost</em> as gorgeous as her twin (Sett was biased). Sett’s gut instinct was great, and his told him that if they had ever been able to meet in real life, he and Alune would have gotten along like gangbusters.</p><p>Alune was very respectful and accommodating though, so their meetings mostly felt like it was just the two of them. But it had given Sett such effusive pleasure when Aphelios had told him that Alune was fond of him that, right after, impulsively, Sett had insisted on bringing Aphelios to meet his mother. He presented Aphelios to her, showing off the beautiful man and explaining what great friends they were, but if the knowing look in Ma’s eyes was anything to go by, it was clear she appreciated the tender feelings her son harboured for the foreigner. Not to mention this was the first person her son had ever purposefully introduced her to, friend or otherwise. Later, once Aphelios had left to chase another lead back on the main continent, Sett’s mother had told him it was nice to see him look so happy, and euphemistically said that it seemed like he’d found a kindred spirit.</p><p>In the weeks or months between their reunions, both men would rededicate themselves to their purposes; Aphelios would train and pursue evidence of Diana, sometimes returning all the way to Targon to replenish his stock of noctum essence. Sett would rake in the money day after day in his pit, stepping into the arena several times himself when an upstart got a little too big for his britches and needed to be put down. His nights would be spent in a convincing depiction of enjoying himself boozing, scrapping and fucking, but especially with the latter it only seemed his heart was in it when he could pretend that the body he was sheathed in was pale and covered in the purple emblems of the moon.</p><p>And before either knew it, they had been business partners-<em>cum</em>-friends for more than two years, and privately in love with each other for almost as long.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sometimes… often actually… love isn’t enough. It is not enough to love someone, even with your entire heart. Love is no guarantee in itself that things will work out, that you can ever be with that person. Especially when your life is not your own.</p><p>Aphelios is still too numb to be able to capture the fear flowing so intensely through his veins it’s as if it’s part of the noctum; he’s not able to pin it down and feel it, so it pervades his body as an indistinct sense of unease instead. Unlike Sett however, he <em>is</em> one given to introspection, especially when the influence of the noctum has faded, or when Alune will (gently) ask him about something personal that she’s glimpsed. And so he’s already run this situation over and over through his head, rendering the musings threadbare and almost obsessive. He’s even talked through it with Alune, who started weeping for him when she reached the same conclusion Aphelios already had.</p><p>There could be no future for the two men.</p><p>Just in plain terms of logistics, they lived in practically polar opposite corners of Runeterra, and the dissatisfying frequency of their meetings was even now only temporarily possible due to the nomadic nature of Aphelios’ current mission. Once Diana was located, or should someone else be assigned to find her, Aphelios would be required to stay in Targon.</p><p>But more importantly, those polar opposite corners held access to the most precious person for each man. Sett would never leave his Ma, who, thanks to her full Vastayan blood would likely outlive her son, and who loved her cottage in Ionia. And Aphelios would never stop drinking the noctum from the pools of Mount Targon. For even if there was ever the remote possibility he defected from the Lunari, he would rather die than sever his only connection with Alune forever.</p><p>That didn’t make the choice any less painful. Though he would berate himself for being greedy, Aphelios wanted to fill his heart, and the type of love one bears for family (especially when that family is little better than a ghost) felt like it could only accomplish half the job.</p><p>It had gotten so bad that he would feel a small moment of gratitude as he lifted a saucer of noctum to his lips; at least in the immolation of the poison, this heartsickness and yearning would burn away too.</p><p>“Phel…” Sett’s ‘voice’ comes, edged with something like panic, accompanied by the flurry of eager concern, like a blizzard over their connection but one Aphelios is bundled up against. “Hey, bunny… are ya… are you cryin’?”</p><p>Even subdued, Aphelios’ surprise must be clear, and he can feel Sett waiting as he lifts gloved fingers to his cheek, the tips coming away darker with moisture.</p><p><em>Why?</em> Aphelios is not sure if he’s only thought this question, or if he heard it in Sett’s voice too.</p><p>“…A side-effect of the noctum, I think,” he provides. He doesn’t even know if he’s lying. “Alune has told me it happens a lot, but I don’t feel the tears myself. It’s probably just my eyes watering. I don’t even notice.”</p><p>Still stripped bare by the power of their supernatural connection, Sett’s reactions are shared with Aphelios as soon as the Vastayan feels them himself. He’s skeptical, and sad. But Aphelios senses through their tether that he’s not going to insist. Truthfully, Sett has never been one to pick at Aphelios when doing so would cause wounds. Whenever he got a little too close to the quick of something Aphelios wasn’t ready to share (or perhaps hadn’t even processed himself), intuition would tell the Vastayan to back off. A rare display of the patience Sett was definitely capable of, when he felt like something was important enough to wait for. And in turn, his patience had been rewarded with an intense trust and feeling of safety that had grown in the Lunari. Eventually Aphelios had felt comfortable talking openly about what they had skirted before, liking that Sett wanted to know him, <em>wanting</em> to be known. The only real secret that really remained between the two men was the depth of their feelings for each other.</p><p>Until this accidental connection, bringing them impossibly close to each other, had removed the last pretense of mere friendly affection.</p><p>“I wanna wipe ‘em away,” Sett’s thoughts come, followed immediately by the mortified, regretful desire to take it back and keep the thought private. He still hasn’t come to terms with the fact that as someone <em>barely</em> able to keep from blurting out his thoughts under normal circumstances, he has absolutely no hope of guarding any of his reactions before their spiritual connection transmits them to Aphelios.</p><p>Much more complicated are his feelings on the fact that this extreme intimacy doesn’t really seem to be having an impact on the younger man. It’s a curse as much as it is a blessing that these glaringly lovesick mini-confessions are being met with what feels like little more than apathy.</p><p>Except for that one moment, where Sett had felt Aphelios’ yearning for him, loudly and articulately enough that Sett felt like he could get full off it for years to come.</p><p>“Alune says that too,” Aphelios shares automatically, his first thought. “Does that mean you feel them? The tears? Or can you see me?”</p><p>“Kinda both. It’s real weird. Like I’m in front of ya. I can see that you’re somewhere dark. A cave, right? And there’s a grotto to your right, with all kindsa flowers under the water… ah, that’s what those are. Can’t help but be honest and tell ya I’d love to rip those little fuckers up by the root, every last one of ‘em.</p><p>“’Cause I can also see you, how dark your eyes are. Only seen that look in a fighter who just got his bell rung, like ‘lights are on, nobody’s home.’ I see that sweat on your face too. And I can feel where you hit your knee. I can… I can also feel your throat.”</p><p>Sett gives a moment of attention to swallowing hard himself, as if the stranglehold of the noctum has them both in its grips.</p><p>“Feels like… feels awful. Like some asshole’s got me in a rear naked choke or somethin’… nah, not quite. I don’t got a way with words, but it makes me insane just thinkin’ about how this is what you’re goin’ through almost all the time.”</p><p>Unconsciously, Aphelios brings his hand to the nexus of his neck and jaw; swallowing too. He should be able to feel his own Adam’s apple sliding under the flesh, the hard pressure he’s unintentionally putting there. But he feels nothing, not in his hand nor in the skin of his throat. Curious… that Sett should be getting these neural transmissions that don’t even seem to be reaching Aphelios’ own brain.</p><p>“Whoa,” Sett’s reaction comes in word and feeling. “I can feel that too. Your hand on your own skin. I like that part. It’s wild, bein’ able to see you and hear you like this. But it’s also like I’m <em>inside</em> ya too—”</p><p>Their connection is rocked by a seismic bundle of emotions from Sett, but it is not loud enough to drown out the images that come with it, the images that his unintentional double entendre conjures in Sett’s mind’s eye.</p><p>Aphelios sees himself naked and flushed, clinging to Sett as he sits in his lap, filled to his stomach and feeling the pulse in Sett’s erection against his walls as if it’s his own heartbeat.</p><p>“FUCK!” Sett rages at himself. “Aphelios, fuck, I’m so sorry. I ain’t—I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to think of that, much less have you know I’m thinkin’ about it, I would never wanna be rude like that with you, I just have a dirty mind sometimes, and I said ‘bein’ inside ya’ and it—uh, please don’t take it personally… just ignore me, we can try cutting—"</p><p>But the vignette acts like a fishhook, reeling a response from the depths of Aphelios’ own fantasies that he can’t consciously summon under the influence of the noctum, it’s too personal, too bound to his private heart. But fantasies that he’s been aroused and soothed by in equal parts when he’s been sober from the poison.</p><p>Still cradled in Sett’s lap, Aphelios tangles his hands in the crimson hair at the base of his lover’s neck, fucking himself on Sett until he sees stars bursting behind his eyelids, the Vastayan pressing him close so he can lean forward and sink his canines into the white flesh of Aphelios’ neck.  This two-fold penetration causes Aphelios to instantly surge over the edge, and he cums onto both their stomachs while he cries out one syllable, in a perfectly working voice. <em>Sett.</em></p><p>His emotional distance means that Aphelios isn’t able to react before Sett does.</p><p>“Oh shit, mooncake. Oh, fuck.”</p><p>It goes on like this for several moments, clumsy profanity strung together, bordering on incoherent meaninglessness. Its tone is very much like the brainless void that muffles everything in post-coital static. Then finally:</p><p>“Where are ya, Phel?” Sett’s voice comes rough with a carnivorous, determined growl, and for the first time, Aphelios feels his animal magic through their bond, crackling and sparking like a live wire. “Wherever the fuck it is, it could be the goddamned moon itself for all I care, I’m comin’ there right now. If that’s what you’ve wanted all this time, all ya ever had to do was ask. But I’ll make it better than anything you’ve ever imagined.”</p><p>But Aphelios is still not in what could be called his authentic mind, and even in the face of his exposed fantasies and Sett’s enthusiasm to make them a reality, he keeps a cool head. No; more accurately the noctum cools his head and his heart and his soul, and it feels like Sett could burn himself down into ashes trying to thaw the man he loves so much.</p><p>“Don’t be reckless, Sett.” A chill settles. “Even if you were to come to Targon, I’ll have left long before you get here. You would not be welcome. And more essentially, such frivolities are better left ignored. All I ever need from you is more information about Diana.”</p><p>A chill settles, but Sett rebels against it. His temper inverts, and soon he’s spouting off without thinking, for better or worse.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em> that. You wanna pretend that this shit doesn’t mean anything? That it’s ‘frivolous’? I’ve done plenty of <em>frivolous</em> shit in my life but this ain’t it. This shit is the only thing really worth livin’ for. Don’t pretend that you’d be doing half the shit you do if you didn’t love your sister as much as you do. My life would be fuckin’ unbearable if not for my Ma. We’re <em>meant</em> to feel this shit.”</p><p>Aphelios tries to parse this pure emotion with surgical logic, the only thing the noctum really leaves room for, and fails.</p><p>Sett’s next thoughts would be impossibly saccharine coming from him, if it wasn’t so abundantly clear how angry he is. “You wanna pretend you don’t know now that I’m fuckin’ in love with you? Who the fuck does that serve? Those Lunari creeps, I’m assumin’? You’ve never been one for the bullshit and that’s one of the things I like about ya so much, so don’t fuckin’ start now. And also, I <em>know</em> this is just that noctum shit talkin’ because now I <em>also know</em> that you’ve got feelings for me, too. I can feel ‘em, deep down in you and it makes me insane that I don’t think you can even feel ‘em yourself right now.”</p><p>Again, Aphelios is trying to find a sensical toe-hold, some word or phrase that isn’t so stained with raw emotion that he can slot it into his robotic analysis, make it compute. But now that he’s revved up, Sett is already outstripping the Lunari by a mile.</p><p>“What I need to know from you right now is how that shit works,” Sett orders, and even in his one-dimensional state, Aphelios feels compelled to obey. “Are you gonna forget most of this after the poison wears off? All of it? Or are you gonna be able to remember what I tell ya when you’re back to bein’ Phel?”</p><p>His reply stutters, but only because Aphelios’ own mind, his own deep-seated indoctrination, is trying to claw him back from crossing this boundary. It would be so much easier if he could lie in that moment, but lying involves trickery, which involves the desire to deceive, and even a desire such as that is a little too esoteric, a little too out of reach with the noctum, especially when Sett’s right there inside his head.</p><p>So, even though it’s more of a default than a choice, Aphelios goes with honesty.</p><p>“Yes… I’ll remember. Everything.”</p><p>“Good.” Sett’s ragged, low growl, heavy with dominance immediately smoothes into tenderness. “’Cause I’m gonna need ya to remember this, bunny. I’m in, if you’re in. I mean it. I love you.”</p><p>Sett’s words come as close to shattering the influence of the noctum as they can. Fear at being tempted with the irresistible; terror that is immediate, visceral, seeps through the cracks. Enough of it gets through that, for the first time that he’s aware of, Aphelios reacts based on emotion instead of responding at arm’s length, defying the glacial filter of the noctum.</p><p>With the mental sensation akin to locating a doorknob in the dark, Aphelios grips onto the feeling and by instinct, slams the metaphorical door shut.</p><p>His connection with Sett severs instantly.</p><p>…He didn’t know he could do that. He has never gotten to that point with Alune, his twin had always just ended up fading out as the noctum filtered from his body, neither of them ever wishing or wanting for it to happen. And when he’d tested it earlier, the connection with Sett had seemed as inexorable as a tsunami, and Aphelios didn’t have the ability to turn the tide.</p><p>But now Sett is gone.</p><p>Aphelios can feel it, he is alone inside his own mind once more. The fear brought on by the intense vulnerability of Sett’s confession, the total loss of their ability to pretend like they aren't so heartsick for each other, it's already washed away, insubstantial as seafoam; the dangled bait of an offered life together already pushed aside. The poison’s numbness has returned and is transmuting into something closer to delirium… being an empty conduit, a vessel set adrift with no anchor, already buffeted by the rip tide of everything that’s just barely repressed under the surface… Aphelios wonders abstractly if he might lose his grip.</p><p>This is <em>too</em> empty. Too empty for any human to endure, especially one with such a sensitive heart that still pumps and clenches and etches every sorrow on itself. Even though such a fact might never reach Aphelios’ awareness, it is undeniable: his heart always keeps track.</p><p>Aphelios tentatively reaches out for his sister, because it is automatic, but also because, deep down, he is still scared, and can’t stand being this alone.</p><p>But something has gone wrong. There is only silence.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It took weeks of arduous cleansing rituals and purification so unforgiving it was essentially torture. That evening, after spending hours alone in the cave trying to make contact with Alune after he’d shut out Sett, Aphelios had deduced the best course of action was to inform the Lunari elders about what had happened, that he couldn't hear Alune. Well, not everything—he had managed to lie by omission about being tethered to Sett accidentally. Funny how he hadn’t been able to deceive Sett even though it would have simplified things so much, but then again that was nearly impossible to do when someone was inside your head, experiencing your every thought the moment you thought it. But his deception is a good thing, because if Aphelios hadn’t concealed the truth, Sett would have been designated as the assassin’s next target; an outsider knowing so much of Lunari magic and ‘intruding’ on something as sacredly held as a psychic tether would have represented an unacceptable risk in the minds of the elders.</p><p>None the wiser, they’d immediately ensconced their assassin defender in the stone bowels of a temple, giving him over to the care of the priests with the insistent demand that he needed to be back in working condition as soon as possible (whether this was in the employment sense, or in the way one might refer to a tool that needed repairing, it was unclear). This situation was one unfamiliar to even the most learned of the Lunari, so rarely was one of their kind born with such non-existent spiritual ability of his own, that most (if not all) of the purported remedies were little better than haphazard guesses.</p><p>First, Aphelios’ body was purged, not only of the supposedly ‘defective’ batch of noctum, but of everything else, until he was a scraped-out husk, a wisp of a person. As insubstantial as the reflection of a dying star on dark waves.</p><p>For the first three days he was not permitted to sleep, and his repentant meditation was enforced by someone at all hours.</p><p>For the first week, he was not permitted to eat, and even then only allowed to consume a thin wafer made of a desiccated root vegetable, the same food monks and nuns were given during prolonged spiritual journeys.</p><p>He was bled, cut along the violet edges of the ritual tattoos adorning his body.</p><p>He was bathed, brought up from the basements to mountaintop springs, ringed in frost. He would submerge in the ice water under the moon’s light, repeating his ablutions until he lost consciousness and would be fished from the freezing pools and revived in the negligible warmth of the temple.</p><p>After three weeks of this, he was made so empty that it seemed possible his fervent heart had been irreparably carved from him.</p><p>Finally, he was deemed purified, a clean slate, and a dish of noctum essence was placed in his automaton hand.</p><p>“Drink,” they’d told him.</p><p>He drank without thinking, without forming any expectation for what might happen.</p><p>One would think that after the unendurable he’d endured, that his already frayed nervous system would accommodate the poison more gently; that compared to the starvation and the cutting and the deprivation and the freezing, that something as rudimentary as mere pain would be child’s play, now.</p><p>But it was the worst. The noctum incinerated him, he could feel it scratching against his skull, he could feel it shredding down the length of every muscle and tendon, down into the very tips of his fingers. His eyes burned and wept from the fever heat, and his intestines writhed and tangled and singed like he was being impaled on forge-fresh irons. Scream after scream flayed his vocal chords, strangled, threadbare sounds. Screaming hurt so bad that he distantly wondered if it was the last sound he’d ever make.</p><p>Then, it all caved in on itself, imploded—he transcended the constraints of his body rooted in the sensual and corporeal, and felt nothing. Nothing except a vast openness, so large and vacant it felt impossible the universe could contain it, let alone one man.</p><p>“Brother!” Alune came sharp and immediate, filling the openness with her soul and what felt like the entire power of the twin moon she channeled. Finally, Aphelios was no longer empty.</p><p>The change in him was readily apparent to his ‘caretakers,’ and he was asked if it had worked.</p><p><em>Yes</em>, he’d nodded. Without emotion, signed for the interpreter: <em>I hear her again.</em></p><p>Aphelios would have been able to easily read the intense relief on the faces of the priests and elders surrounding him, if he hadn’t been more numbed than ever before. His Lunari kinsmen congratulated each other in hushed tones, giving credit to the miracles of the Moon, while in the words of someone like Sett, they’d merely flung shit at a wall to see what stuck. It was entirely possible that if he’d been allowed to let the noctum dissipate from his body like he usually did and try again with a fresh batch, that Aphelios would have gone back to ‘normal’ and the incident could have been dismissed as an aberration.  Instead, in forcing the honing of The Weapon of the Faithful, they had come dangerously close to disintegrating him against the whetstone of devotion. Such measures were not necessarily typical of the Lunari, though they undeniably lived harsh and ascetic lives by necessity. It was more a matter of zealotry and self-preserving motivations being easier to inflict on the black-haired outcast, the necessary dark shadow amongst the illumination of their salvation. But most essentially, they saw he was back in control, that the potential crisis was averted, that he could resume his missions. Satisfied, the onlookers went about their business, leaving Aphelios amongst the dim stone to commune with his sister, supervised by only two monks as a precaution.</p><p>But Alune was coming through so loud and with such intensity, the <em>what </em>and <em>who</em> around Aphelios fell into blind irrelevance.</p><p>“Brother,” she had wailed; her inconsolable weeping emanating from her soul, for she had no body to shed tears with. “I feel you. I feel you again, finally.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It is only Alune who can save him, and over time she manages to drag the heart and soul of her brother back, back from the jaws of the poison and the chains of deep trauma. A month passes with things calming and Aphelios successfully repeating the cycle of ebb and flow with the noctum many more times without incident, healed by his sister without him being aware she is doing so. Most importantly, Alune senses the familiarity of his spirit; fully returned, impossibly close with hers once more and comforts herself that her worst fear is averted.</p><p>It is only when she knows she has him back that she finally broaches the topic of what had instigated this meltdown in the first place.</p><p>Aphelios watches as Crescendum dissipates into moonbeams, leaving his palm feeling too light and empty. He sits down on a rock near a cliff overlooking the coastline, a little winded from intense training—an activity to keep him focused while on mission in another strange place (he’d thought, wrongly, that he’d already been all over Runeterra, but Alune’s visions still managed to direct him to new locations). He starts sipping citrus-infused water from a small mashak, but is interrupted by the furtive voice of his sister in his head.</p><p>“Phel, there is something we need to discuss.”</p><p>It’s been a day since his last ingestion of the poison, so while the noctum still overlays a heavy distortion that filters much of his emotion, Aphelios has regained the ability to feel, if shallowly.</p><p>He balks.</p><p>He knows exactly what <em>something</em> needs to be discussed, and harbours the dissonant desires to unburden himself completely with Alune along with utterly avoiding the topic and never speaking of it again. He pursues avoidance, through force of habit.</p><p>Knowing her brother and the forces of his habits much too intimately to let him get away with it, Alune doubles down, insisting.</p><p>“You should see him again.”</p><p>She’s invading his privacy a little; keeping a metaphorical, metaphysical fingertip on the pulse of her brother’s emotions when she usually doesn’t pry. And so Alune can also feel the thunderbolt of panicked confusion that electrifies Aphelios’ strained nervous system at her statement.</p><p>But abruptly and to her surprise, it quickly settles.</p><p>“You mean to tie off loose ends,” Aphelios assumes, and at such a thought she can feel grief, resigned but profound, cracking his heart.</p><p>“No, dear brother,” she tenderly corrects. “You should go to him, and be with him.”</p><p>The panicked confusion again, but this time overtop of the grief, and mixed into a whirlwind of indignation and… anger? Aphelios is so rarely angry.</p><p>“Are you making fun of me?” he lashes out, because it’s inconceivable that she could be serious. “And you’ve clearly been snooping in my head—"</p><p>“No,” she coos until he quiets a little. “I am not making fun of you. And even if I couldn’t feel everything in your heart, I know you too well. Aphelios, those words Sett said to you, the desires he conveyed to you…” She stammers and loses her composure and an instant later, she feels the hot blush on Aphelios’ cheeks that he can’t feel for himself.</p><p>“The <em>sweet</em> desires, Phel, not those <em>other</em> ones—”</p><p>They wrestle with each other mentally, the psychic equivalent of siblings screaming at each other <em>get out!</em> and <em>oh my gods, ew! ew! ew!</em> after one walking in on the other during a ‘private’ moment. Finally, the dust settles and after repeatedly swearing to her brother that she has always done her best to respect the boundaries of Aphelios’ thoughts and memories of Sett and that this was a one-off out of necessity, Alune is finally able to clarify.</p><p>“You deserve to feel joy, Phel. <em>That’s</em> why you should go to him. That’s what I want for you, what the Moon wants for you.”</p><p>Without even needing coherent words, Aphelios expresses that he thinks Alune is lying.</p><p>“I am not,” she says, firmly, but softly, an art of communication that she is singularly adept at. “I would not lead you astray. Do not mistake my meaning; I cannot and will never advise you to abandon our people. We are their only chance for survival until the celestial balance shifts, and we cannot defy our orbits.”</p><p>This last sentence is heavily soaked with regret, and when Aphelios understands it, he feels overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by mourning and love for Alune, and overwhelmed by a solidifying of his purpose. No, it’s true the twins were born to destinies they cannot defy, but that doesn’t mean they don’t understand the full measure of the price being exacted from them. But wasn’t that exactly the core of their faith? Faith meant nothing unless it was galvanized; bathed in the molten blood of a broken heart.</p><p>“We cannot defy our orbits,” she repeats, “which is why I have asked the Moon why yours has crossed so powerfully with his. I will admit, when I first understood your fondness for him I grieved for you, sure it was only meant as another test of your faith.</p><p>“But that is not what the Moon is showing me. I did not understand until just recently, but it would have been clear the moment you told me Sett was able to tether with you. We do so only by the magic of the Moon. Do you believe the Moon would permit an ‘accident,’ such as what occurred, when you and I are both so intrinsically connected to Her? The answer is clear, Aphelios.</p><p>“Go to him. The Moon wishes for you to have joy.”</p><p>Tears collect in the corners of Aphelios’ eyes, seemingly welling up from the pulp of his heart itself. While he is still unable to feel them fall, lining the edges of his tattoos, they obscure his vision and he understands why they are there.</p><p>“I can’t,” he protests. “My life isn’t mine like that, and the elders would punish us if they found out I’d strayed from my orbit—”</p><p>“This <em>is</em> your orbit, Phel—”</p><p>“We wouldn’t have time, I don’t belong in his world and he doesn’t—”</p><p>“I never promised you that your orbits would unite you permanently, it may be little different than it is now but—”</p><p>“I screwed it up with Sett, he shared his feelings by accident at first but then he owned them, unashamed, and I’m just a coward—”</p><p>“Talk to him—”</p><p>“But I can’t be in any relationship and use the noctum, I’d be away from you more, and I might get distracted from missions, and I have to find Diana and I have to defend our people, I am their weapon—"</p><p>“Aphelios.” Alune’s voice surges with the authority of the elder sibling (if only by a few minutes). “You are not a weapon. You are my brother.”</p><p>The words give Aphelios peace, enough that he can truly absorb the ones that come next without fighting them off on blind instinct.</p><p>“I have always only ever wanted you to be happy, Phel. And I know the circumstances of our birth have made that nigh impossible. I know what you have sacrificed. I have seen how you suffered, I <em>feel</em> it from you, just as you feel my suffering. And I know... we will suffer more. There will be times where I will ask you to surrender your mind to the night, and to leave the light behind. Where I must ask you to endure, even while I feel your pain, while I can feel how cold you are.”</p><p>Aphelios shivers and his brow contorts minutely as more hot tears streak across his cheeks.</p><p>“Dear brother, chase this light… you will have so many moments in the darkness… please.” Through a psychic connection like this, the bodily cues of emotion don’t always translate, but after a moment of strained, evocative silence, it’s clear Alune has begun weeping.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>,” she sobs, “let it warm you, while I cannot. Let it embrace you, and soothe you, and dry your tears in my stead. And hold onto it too deeply for the poison to touch. Let it be yours, even if you belong to others. That is what would make <em>me</em> happiest.”</p><p>If Aphelios could never do it out of his own self-interest, he will do it for Alune.</p><p>He will process his feelings about it all later, but now he rises, and through his eyes Alune can see the twin cities of Zaun and Piltover twinkling like a constellation in the distance. Knowing they lie in a westerly direction from where he is now, he traces the coastline until he searches due north. Barely discernible on the horizon in the depths of night like this is the outline of an archipelago, just a shade darker than the pitch of the midnight sky.</p><p>After a moment of mutual comprehension, fragile serenity envelops both of them.</p><p>“Go now,” Alune confirms. “All else can wait for this, I promise you.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He could really use a pep talk from Alune right now, but the fact that Aphelios hadn’t taken noctum (at his sister’s insistence) in the three days he’d been aboard a ship bound for Ionia means that, as he disembarks, he is totally alone in a crowd. Before her voice had petered out the day before, Alune had promised that he’d never be alone, that this was her guidance and the right path, that even without the noctum she was always watching over him… which had been sweet until it had slid into another sibling kerfuffle revolving around who Aphelios was going to visit and what had a possibility of happening; a scenario where voyeurs—residing in the spiritual realm or otherwise—would be <em>most</em> unwelcome. This garnered many more statements of <em>ew! gross! </em>and <em>I would never spy!</em> from Alune, and Aphelios looking overboard and considering whether drowning himself would help with the embarrassment.</p><p>But as mortifying as discussing your sex life with your sister is, a much heavier concern is weighing on Aphelios as he half-heartedly snakes through the throngs. He isn’t sure he’s ready to seek out the Vastayan, what Sett will even say upon seeing him. Putting himself in the other’s shoes (not that he has experience with such matters) Aphelios can’t help but nurse terror that his knee-jerk rejection has done irreparable damage. And even more logically than worrying about how deeply he may have hurt Sett’s feelings, it is entirely reasonable that the Vastayan would have taken the resounding ‘hint’ and moved on, especially given that more than two months had passed since they’d had any contact.</p><p>In his adult life Aphelios had rarely had ‘sober’ stretches long enough for anxiety to gain much traction, but he is a nervous wreck as he navigates through the port town. He still has a day’s worth of travelling inland into Navori, as the quickest passage he could find made port closer to the island of Bahrl, the southernmost point of the Ionian archipelago. He is familiar with the route, though he’s always taken it with (at minimum) the slight fizz of excitement that he’d be seeing Sett again soon. Now, he just feels an intensifying dread.</p><p>Twilight is deepening and Aphelios decides he is too wired to bother renting a room at an inn, he may as well start the last leg of his journey now. Although he is weighed by apprehension, his feet are also hastened by the promise he has made to Alune (and to himself, the Lunari, even the Moon Herself) that no matter what happens, he will take the noctum and resume his missions in three days’ time. Provided he arrives in Navori tomorrow afternoon and is capable of catching up on sleep, he will have one full day to talk with Sett, before he rededicates himself on the morrow.</p><p>He doesn’t even know if Sett is in town, what his schedule will be like. It feels like their time might as well already be up.</p><p>If they have any further reason to spend time together, anyway.</p><p>And so the cycle of Aphelios’ nerve-wracked, lovesick fixation goes.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aphelios has always hated dawn, it was always a transition that held reminders of how feeble the Lunari still were. This Ionian dawn is no more welcome, in fact it already feels a little too hot for so early in the day. But late summers on the islands have always been on the humid side, a fact that Aphelios doesn’t like either, but he’s used to it as an experienced traveller.</p><p>He loosens the high, thick collar of his coat and pulls the teal ceremonial scarf from his shoulders, the merchant import cart he’s hitched a ride on the back of jostling as he does so. Folding the silken fabric reverently in his palms, he’s already lost in the same musings as the day before (and many of the days preceding it).</p><p>Sett had used the word love. He’d said explicitly that now, Aphelios knew Sett was in love with him. He’d said ‘I love you.’ Was that really what he'd meant, though? Had it just been in the heat of the moment? It was hard to tell.</p><p>The beast-man wasn’t really one for waxing poetic or mincing his words, but neither was he careless or prone to empty grandstanding; saying things that didn’t have at least a nugget of truth, or that Sett couldn’t back up. But he <em>did</em> exaggerate and he <em>did</em> talk big as a general rule, and he <em>did</em> run his mouth and say things without thinking them through. And, tethered to each other’s minds like that, Sett hadn’t had the benefit of any filter whatsoever, so what little cool-headedness might have prevailed had they been speaking normally may very well have gotten burnt up in momentary passion, regretted later.</p><p>What it didn’t really change was that Aphelios knew he was in love with Sett, and had been for a very long time. Would use the word love with deliberation and with all implications and intended intensity. He missed Sett every time they parted, and would even be reminded of him during menial tasks, if only because it was so easy to picture them doing it together. He had been thrilled by getting to know even the most mundane details of the other’s life. In Sett’s presence was the only time the Lunari assassin ever felt a modicum of relaxation; like just by being himself, so authentically Sett all the time, the Vastayan was lightening Aphelios’ burdens. And though he had an inelegant way of going about some things, Sett had always been pretty open about his respect and fondness for Aphelios. Even when he’d assumed it was merely friendly affection to insulate himself from hurt, Aphelios had always felt like maybe Sett was the only living person in this realm who cared for him at all. Who was invested in his well-being for motivations that had nothing to do with personal gain.</p><p>Sett was the only person on this side of the spirit realm who could claim they had given Aphelios a reason to smile.</p><p>By the time the cart trundles into Navori, it is well into the evening; later than Aphelios had expected or hoped to arrive. By now, even if Sett is around, he’ll likely be cavorting in some random bar, warming up for a night of booze-fueled degeneracy. Having fallen asleep for a few hours on the cart unintentionally, Aphelios feels no shade of tiredness. He has no idea how to pass the time; too afraid to waste the hours, too afraid to look for Sett and actually find him. After deliberation, he decides to visit a public bathhouse, so that freshly groomed and bathed, he will have no excuses in the morning.</p><p>His tattoos draw some lingering looks as he disrobes and goes to settle in the thermal waters, but he’s used to it and there is no shortage of characters in this city, and people quickly go back to minding their own business.</p><p>His skin is sensitive—or rather, in comparison to the pervasive dulling of the noctum, it feels more sensitive than usual now that the poison is totally out of his body. He can actually identify the rosiness rising warmly behind his cheeks, blooming as a consequence of the hot bath. He can feel the waters a little too keenly on the fresh scars that outline all of the tattoos on his lithe torso; the places where his blood was let with the purported purpose of cleansing him. Did it help? Who could know. Aphelios tries to dredge frustration or indignation at the things he was put through, but it’s difficult to feel any outrage on behalf of this body he hardly feels connected to anyway.</p><p>If things went well, though… and he and Sett… would he be grateful for his body then…?</p><p>The flush in his face spreads down to his collarbones, and Aphelios has to implement every Lunari self-mastery technique in his arsenal to keep from getting aroused in public.</p><p><em>That’s</em> something he’s thought a lot about too—the topic of sex—though it isn’t always with breath-quickening anticipation. Often, he wonders if he’ll screw things up with his inexperience, if someone with the presumed history Sett has will even enjoy himself with a clueless, naïve virgin. Aphelios knows the basics, but when he envisions an intimate scenario and all the mistakes he could make in it, the idea of sex just becomes another burden amongst the numerous ones he’s already juggling.</p><p>Though he has done a thorough job of grooming and primping himself, rubbing fragrant oils into his skin and hair, his mindset is turning more and more singularly to thoughts of fleeing. Sett doesn’t know he’s here, in all likelihood never wants to see him again anyway. He should just leave, and empty a vial of noctum all at once because frozen numbness would be so much better than this hell of his own making he’s got to endure all alone. The only thing that stops him is that he knows he would rather endure this solitary hell and see it through to whatever end is in store, than chicken out and face Alune’s disappointment when he opened the connection early. Having gone this far already on the first truly selfish endeavor of his life, he still approaches it with the methodical tenacity of someone always on a mission. Backing out now because he’d gotten too in his own head would be an intolerable failure.</p><p>When he steps out into the rowdy streets of the city that never seems to simmer down, Aphelios automatically looks up. The moon is a waxing crescent, just shy of First Quarter. A phase that the Lunari revere as a time of slumbering potential; the time when a scale is balanced before it is tipped one way or the other. Aphelios wonders which way it will tip for him, and feels a gentle stirring in the muggy breeze as he does. It caresses his face and he permits himself the passing fancy that it’s Alune, cheering him on and lending him her ethereal strength via moonbeams. Bolstered, he walks his way to the crummy inn where he first met Sett those years ago. It had been amusing, watching the Vastayan vacillate so rapidly between wanting to fuck him and wanting to punch his teeth in once the voiceless Aphelios appeared to be ignoring him. One had to wonder where either of them would be, had the barman not intervened and cleared things up between them. Probably, things would be a lot simpler. But the thought of having never gotten to know Sett, never having met his Ma, never having let Sett get to know him in return… it fills Aphelios with vivid regret.</p><p>It allows him to glean some small insight into Alune’s urging of him pursuing this fragile joy, even when it probably won’t change anything in the grand scheme of things, and will foreseeably provide its share of avoidable challenges. Even just one taste of sweetness makes the bitter rest of it more palatable. Sometimes, even if you were sure it would end in sorrows, the joy was worth it.</p><p>But for one who has never been encouraged or permitted to take joy for himself—in fact anything that <em>had </em>given Aphelios joy had either been taken, lost, sacrificed or punished out of his life—this is terrifying. What did you do when you got happiness? How could you know you deserved it? What if you didn’t? What did you do, how did you stay sane, when you <em>did</em> get it, and now had something precious that could be lost or taken once more?</p><p>Too many sensations, rooted in the emotional, weighing on him and tugging on him physically. His tummy flipping every time he thinks of potentially seeing Sett tomorrow. The crushing gravitational pull his heart exerts in his chest; sucking everything into what feels like a nascent black hole, making it hard to take a full breath.</p><p>And there are also the substantially less esoteric and poetic sensations that overcome him. Every time he remembers the flash of what Sett had fantasized about them doing together, and the flash he'd unintentionally sent back through their tether, so much blood rushes out of his head he feels woozy. Being so horny and so anxious in equal parts is absolutely awful, and has already resulted in a few very conflicted, confusing private moments on Aphelios’ journey to Ionia.</p><p>In his grungy inn room in the upper level of the tavern, Aphelios buries his head face-down in the musty pillow. He’s already had several drinks and can’t justify spending the gold on more, but his brain is nowhere near as fuzzy or sleepy as he was praying it would be.</p><p>He feels the sudden urge to scream at the top of his lungs.</p><p>But the impulse spurs him into wondering when he’d last made a sound—the noctum he’d taken after the rituals at the temple seems to have irreversibly damaged his vocal chords. Before, he’d still been able to vocalize; a grunt, a monosyllable, a laugh had he ever felt like laughing, and rarely, a whole word. But about a week after ‘recovering’ he’d realized even these small noises were absent, and upon purposefully trying to produce sound, had only uttered a harsh, breathy whisper.</p><p>He flips around, glaring at the ceiling, rolling his tongue in his mouth and across his teeth and lips, wetting them in hopes that will help anything.</p><p>He tries again now, and a strange hiss is all that comes out. A sound he finds so ugly that he cuts it off with a violence.</p><p>He’ll probably never be able to speak again. He should have said Sett’s name aloud when he’d had the chance. He should have said a lot of things.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Morning arrives with a surprising chill and the patter of rain on the roof. A few moments after Aphelios has opened his eyes, a rumble of thunder growls in the distance. Some would consider a thunderstorm to be a poor omen; certainly in the culture of Bilgewater, any fortune teller worth their salt would advise him to stay in bed versus trying to sprout the first bud of his love life. But Mount Targon was much closer to Shurima, where rain was rare and revered as one of the highest blessings, and so Aphelios’s embattled heart is actually fortified a little. At the very least, he won’t have to worry about sweating in the summer heat under all the layers of his traditional Lunari garb.</p><p>Never one for eating much and certainly too nervous to do so now, Aphelios departs from the tavern with an empty, twisting stomach. At this hour, he’ll reach the pit long before any arena matches are booked, and so hopefully Sett’s schedule can permit the unexpected surprise a little easier.</p><p>Unfortunately, the opposite seems to be the case. That, or Sett is well and truly done with Aphelios, and has found a very effective, non-verbal way to communicate it.</p><p>Aphelios has been waiting for over three hours now. Three silent hours of utter torture, not even Sett’s staff have come to check on him. He’d been ushered into this meeting room by one of the pit crew he didn’t recognize, which was the first ominous sign. Other than their very first dealing when Aphelios had been treated the way he was being treated now, Sett had always made sure that his employees let Aphelios wait in the Boss’s private office. Instead, he’s been shown to a small, uncared-for meeting room. The reversion back to feeling like another ordinary client amongst the many that were always competing for Sett’s attention or favour or money makes Aphelios want to vomit.</p><p>Three hours.</p><p>Three. Hours.</p><p>When the door opens without warning, it almost ends Aphelios’ life prematurely, his heart skips so many beats. The door opens inwards on the room and blocks Aphelios’ view from where he is sitting on a couch, and in the breathless moment he spends expecting to see Sett, a female voice comes instead, distracted.</p><p>“Yeah, hey—sorry, but you’re gonna have to get going ‘cause Boss doesn’t have time right now after all.”</p><p>A woman with long black hair and bearing facial tattoos enters fully into the room, absorbed totally in the fistful of administrative documents clutched in her hand. Aphelios knows her well; Sett’s lieutenant, a lot of the brains behind the operation, and someone Aphelios likes a lot, too. They’d bonded instantly over the markings on their faces—even in a diverse world like Runeterra, prominent face tattoos were still rare and isolated to niche cultures, though hers were the swirling designs of an old Noxian coven. Rhoanna was also totally accommodating of Aphelios’ lack of speech, and on one of his most recent visits here, she’d even gifted him a luxurious leather notebook and an expensive hextech pen whose ink never ran dry.</p><p>Her gold necklaces glint in the light as she flips her hair back from where it slid over her shoulder as she was reading, finally looking up to see why whoever has been waiting in here isn’t protesting or raging at being dismissed like everyone always did.</p><p>Seeing Aphelios, her eyes widen in shock, mouth dropping open in a gape before she blurts:</p><p>“Holy shit! It’s <em>you!</em> Oh SHIT!”</p><p>What’s going on? Hadn’t it been clear who he was? How many Lunari assassins did Sett have hanging around his pit…?</p><p>Rhoanna dumps her papers on a tabletop and approaches Aphelios with rare attrition in her body language.</p><p>“I am soooo sorry, Aphelios. Nobody had any idea it was you. New staffer didn’t know any better and just said you were another guy here to see Sett. Although how he didn’t include ‘yeah, a dude asked for you via writing 'cause he can’t talk’ as relevant info, I have no fuckin’ idea.”</p><p>She brings a hand to her mouth and bites her knuckles. “Fuck. Sett is probably going to beat the shit out of all of us when he finds out… but maybe not since you’re finally here… he’ll be so happy—”</p><p>Aphelios’ heart somersaults, and without realizing, he tries to speak, only mouthing the word instead.</p><p>
  <em>Happy?</em>
</p><p>Either Rhoanna reads his lips or the shock is blatant on Aphelios’ face, because she clarifies.</p><p>“Yeah? Duh? Like <em>so</em> happy. Man, I dunno what happened between the two of you but Boss’s been up his own ass being a misery guts for like, two months now. We got into a huge fight when I called him on it, but he said just enough that I gathered, uh…”</p><p>She breaks off hesitantly, considering her words.</p><p>“Well, honestly, I don’t think either of us expected to ever see you again. And Sett’s been real torn up about it.”</p><p>She must see the shimmer of sincere emotion in Aphelios’ eyes, because she breaks into a knowing grin.</p><p>“You’re real special to him, you know that, right? Never seen Boss go gaga like this. He is sooo obvious about it too. Shit like giving me an extra purse of gold for no reason or taking us all out for a super expensive dinner just ‘cause you’d visited and he was ‘feeling generous.’ Yeah right, like he’s the charitable type. And not to mention I like you, too. It’s real good to see you back, moon boy.”</p><p>Aphelios feels his emotions so immediately it’s disorienting. He’s elated that it was all just a miscommunication, that Rhoanna thinks Sett will be <em>happy</em> to see him, that Rhoanna herself is showing Aphelios more kindness than he’s experienced in weeks.</p><p>“You sit tight, hon. I’m gonna go get Sett and give him the best news he’s gotten all year. You can repay me by suggesting a nice raise for your old pal Rhoanna when Boss is finally back in a great mood, ‘kay?”</p><p>She departs with a wink, closing the door behind her, leaving Aphelios standing paralyzed and again wondering if that’s more thunder or just his pulse loud enough to echo off the walls.</p><p>It isn’t very long before another loud pounding noise comes—the sound of racing footsteps resonating through the hallway outside.</p><p>Again Aphelios’ heart nearly fails when the door opens, but this time it’s practically blown inwards, with such ferocity that its hinges are barely clinging together. Sett takes up the entire doorway, the purple tufts of his maned coat brushing the wooden frame.</p><p>Aphelios has never seen the expression Sett is wearing now, has never seen the way the muscles of his chest are heaving. He’s never seen Sett at a loss for words. Aphelios has too many of his own that he knows he owes Sett, but they are perched at the back of his useless tongue and can never be given sound. It’s all way too much and Aphelios weakly breaks the eye contact and hangs his head, overwhelmed and chagrined.</p><p>“Look at me, Phel,” Sett’s voice comes immediately, but soft and pleading, a tone completely unexpected by the Lunari. Aphelios fights himself and manages to look up again through his lashes.</p><p>“Why are you here,” the Vastayan asks, but the question is utterly devoid of accusation or resentment. It is asked with such hopeful astonishment that even Aphelios understands immediately. He wants to get his notebook and pen so he can explain it all, but despite his fearsome wolverine heritage Sett is looking at him with the most eager, beseeching puppy dog eyes, ears bent low and turned back, and it’s now hard to look away.</p><p>“Are ya… you’re not here just to say goodbye… are ya?”</p><p>How can someone like Aphelios have this effect on someone as incredible, as formidable as Sett? It doesn’t make any sense to him, but gratitude wells up warmly, collecting especially hot behind his eyes and cheeks.</p><p>Aphelios shakes his head no, and can’t help the smile that emerges on his lips.</p><p>If Sett had a tail like some full Vastayans did, it would doubtless be wagging right now, he looks so relieved and elated. His ears have perked and are tuned forward, straining to absorb every stimulus even from the silent Aphelios.</p><p>But Sett is still so tentative. Under other, less meaningful circumstances it would have been amusing to see the giant man with a penchant for cracking skulls with his bare hands reduced to such self-consciousness.</p><p>“Um… can I… can I hug ya?”</p><p>Aphelios’ smile is so wide now his teeth are showing—Sett’s never seen that before and he’s smitten twice over—and Aphelios nods <em>yes</em> with joyful relief and even lifts his arms in anticipation.</p><p>They’ve never embraced like this; Sett has touched him plenty of times, but it was always just a hand on his back or one arm slung over the Lunari’s shoulders. Nothing as deliberate, as intimate as this.</p><p>Aphelios, engulfed by Sett’s body, buries his face into the Vastayan’s chest and clings with his hands to the space just below Sett’s shoulder blades. The crush of Sett’s arms around his entire torso is the best thing Aphelios has ever felt, that is until Sett impulsively presses his lips to the top of Aphelios’ head, crowning him with kisses and happy murmurs.</p><p>“I’m real sorry, Phel. I know I pushed too hard too fast, even though I could feel how scared I was makin’ ya. And I know why it was scary, I get it. Been kickin’ myself for weeks ‘cause I thought I’d freaked ya out so bad you’d never come back. Can’t tell ya how close I was to goin’ to Targon anyway but even I knew I might really be fuckin’ things up if I did that. I’m real sorry, mooncake.”</p><p>Aphelios shakes his head gently, the tip of his nose brushing against Sett’s breastbone.</p><p><em>Don’t be sorry</em>, he wants to say. But he doesn’t want to pull away to get his notebook, so he’ll just have to settle for explaining later.</p><p>“I know it might be a little weird ‘n all, considering we were in each other’s heads like that and, well… I also ain’t ever hugged ya like this, but… I just need you to know that we don’t gotta do anything about it, one way or the other. If you want it back the way it used to be, I’m just glad to see you here…”</p><p>Aphelios does pull away this time, determined. He can’t stand Sett worrying or coddling him or pussyfooting around him, and honestly, platonic friendship has never been what he’s wanted, only the way he thought it had to be. With confidence so alien to him it might very well be Alune’s supernatural influence, he extricates one hand from beneath the heavy fur mantle of Sett’s coat and brings it to his own mouth, laying two fingertips against his lips. He hopes the gesture will be understood, although it is Runeterran sign language, the meaning seems pretty self-evident.</p><p>Sett’s eyes narrow in brief puzzlement until they flash open again, pupils constricting to slits with his excitement. “Hey, I know that one! That’s the sign for ‘kiss,’ right?”</p><p>Now Aphelios disengages further from the hug, due to shock. He brings both his hands in front and leans back against Sett’s arms to create some space between them so he can sign more.</p><p>
  <em>You know sign language? Since when?</em>
</p><p>“Yeah, didn’t catch all that,” Sett says but sounds extremely pleased with himself regardless. “But you’re asking something like if I know sign language, right? We’ll still need that notebook of yours, but yeah, I’ve been learnin’ for awhile now, since when you told me you used to sign with Alune. Wanted to try and make things easier on ya. I was gonna surprise you one day when I was fluent.”</p><p>Aphelios flushes, heart fluttering as he momentarily basks in the feeling of someone having gone through trouble—put in effort like that—for him. Because they’d wanted to.</p><p>
  <em>I can’t believe you’d—</em>
</p><p>Sett interrupts him by gently clasping his hands in both of his own, though they are so large he’d really only need one.</p><p>“Later,” the Vastayan grins ruefully. “First things first. I believe there was a little bunny who just asked for a kiss.”</p><p>Sett just chuckles as he watches Aphelios turn a deep shade of red, guiding the Lunari’s hands back to his muscled chest before reaching to pull the other close again. The gold in Sett’s irises looks effervescent as he gazes down at the man in his arms, looking so beautiful even while blinking back up at him with such wide, nervous, expectant eyes.</p><p>“Close your eyes, mooncake,” Sett smiles and nearly laughs as Aphelios obediently, adorably snaps them shut. A little unfairly, Sett doesn’t close his immediately, even as he leans down he’s still watching, because he wants to know how the view compares to all the times he’s imagined it.</p><p>It’s perfect.</p><p>Finally, Sett lowers the rest of the way and closes the distance, pressing his lips to Aphelios. It’s a chaste kiss, pure and affectionate, followed by several soft pecks, interrupted by the smile Sett can’t keep off his face. But when he feels Aphelios lean into the kiss and his lips part, already wanting more, Sett pulls away roguishly.</p><p>“That’s enough for now,” he teases. “If we go any further, I won’t be able to stop myself and this ain’t how or where I want it to happen.”</p><p>Aphelios doesn’t realize that his eyes are still half-lidded or that his lips are still parted and slightly pursed.</p><p>“Well, now,” Sett brings a hand up to thumb at Aphelios’ lower lip, tracing the violet tattoo there. “Who knew the little bunny would be such a hungry one?”</p><p>Aphelios snaps out of it as he understands he’s being made fun of, and clamps his mouth closed into a tight, stubborn line. And before Sett knows what’s happening and can react, Aphelios reaches up with both hands, embedding his long fingers near the base of Sett’s ears. Sett goes rigid, and Aphelios compounds his vulnerability by thumbing along the soft outer edges, beginning to move the rest of his fingers in slow, petting scratches as he watches the giant Vastayan melt into hot-cheeked, quivering jelly under his touch.</p><p>Not that he’ll ever have his fill of such a sight, but after a few more moments, Aphelios decides to play fair again and smirks as he lowers his hands, signing for the beast-man who has yet to be able to control his slackened mouth to form a comeback or another tease.</p><p>
  <em>You should be more careful making fun of someone who specializes in exploiting weaknesses.</em>
</p><p>The signs are a little more on the complex side so Sett doesn’t quite grasp them all, especially not in his pliable putty state, but he gets the gist from Aphelios’ wicked grin if nothing else. It’s enough to make him seriously reconsider his earlier declaration—not here, not now—but he narrowly manages to wrangle his ardour and stick to the plan he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to act on.</p><p>“Alright, Phel. We’re gonna find Rhoanna, tell her what’s up, and we’re gonna ditch this place for the rest of the day, and I’m gonna treat you to the best meal money can buy, and you’re gonna eat it all because you’re gonna need lots of energy for tonight.”</p><p>Sett leans in close, speaking into Aphelios’ ear in a low voice rough with a primal growl, already getting his revenge for the ear petting ambush. “’Cause I’m gonna fill you up and fuck you until I can hear you screamin’ my name.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aphelios is still red by the time they find Rhoanna. Sett’s lieutenant is surprisingly accommodating when he tells her that he’s taking the afternoon off and the arena and all of its matches are her problem. Not like she needs the cues to put two and two together, but between the blush on Aphelios’ cheeks that Sett’s words stained there, and the Vastayan strutting around with his ears perked, grinning like the cat who got the cream, Rhoanna draws a conclusion and doesn’t hassle her lovebird boss for ditching his responsibilities.</p><p>When they are just outside the pit, emerging into the streets of Navori, Aphelios tugs gently on Sett’s coat.</p><p><em>Is it really alright for you to leave? </em>he signs. <em>I can wait if you need to stay.</em></p><p>He’s already prepared to reach for his notebook, but it seems like Sett understands immediately.</p><p>“Nah, fuck the pit for a day,” he proclaims. “If I’m chained to that place like a slave, then what’s the point of bein’ The Boss?”</p><p>Then, voice softening, Sett reaches for Aphelios’ hand, holding it. “’Sides, I have a feelin’ you’re gonna tell me you can’t stick around.”</p><p>Aphelios shakes his head and as he signs <em>tomorrow</em>, he watches Sett’s ears wilt a little. But the beast-man regains himself and says, “then definitely fuck the pit. We’re gonna make the most of the afternoon, and then alllll night. You’re mine until the moment ya can’t be anymore, ‘kay?”</p><p>Aphelios wonders if this is easy for Sett, he doesn’t seem bashful at all as he’s still gripping the Lunari’s hand and walking down a very public, crowded street, fresh out of fucks to give who sees them or what anyone thinks. Initially this makes Aphelios feel insecure, being open about his romantic interest is still so new, and the creeping tendrils of anxiety are starting to tangle him up; he’s lost in thought about how he’s acting, how he should be acting, how many times Sett has done this before, what will happen tonight.</p><p>But then he remembers, vividly and immediately now, what it felt like to be tethered to the Vastayan. Under the influence of the noctum the profundity of Sett’s feelings had barely registered, but now Aphelios can recall them as freshly as if he’s sealed them away in a preservation vault. Remembering that, remembering the pureness of the excitement Sett felt, the sweet intensity of his affection—Aphelios decides to discard his preoccupations and trust.</p><p>He’ll trust that Sett enjoys himself, that he gives something to the other the way Sett gives him something just by being his authentic self, just by being around. It doesn’t have to make logical sense, and Aphelios realizes how foolish it would be to tarnish this precious day, how much concrete evidence he’d have to ignore to insist that he’s somehow disappointing Sett, or that his short-comings will ruin everything.</p><p>Sett looks over his shoulder to where Aphelios trails a step behind, perhaps already aware that the younger man has spent a moment in worry. But when Aphelios can’t help but smile back up at him, Sett lights up like it’s the best day of his life.</p><p>They make their way to the terraced restaurant—still Sett’s favourite but now because of the memories he has here with Aphelios—and this time at Sett’s request they are led to an even more secluded table, VIP seating by an arbour of jasmine that’s beginning to unfurl. Except for when the staff come by to attend to their needs, they are completely alone.</p><p>“You go ahead and get whatever your heart desires,” Sett tells Aphelios. “Can’t tell ya how long I’ve been waitin’ to be able really spoil ya, Phel. No sticking to just an appetizer or just one drink like you always do, ‘kay? Fill up, let me take care of you.”</p><p>For some reason, Aphelios suddenly feels like he might cry. He thinks of the last thing he wants to be reminded of right now; how he got so hungry during the purification rituals it seemed to settle in his bones, and he still hasn’t been able to satiate it, his shrunken stomach rejecting more than half-sized portions and leaving him feeling nauseous rather than satisfied in the weeks since. How he’d been so hungry and so cold and so tired all at the same time; the depletion gnawing on his body, chewing through his flesh and his warmth until he hadn’t felt solid anymore, and hardly sentient. He doesn’t want to be remembering that while he’s here with Sett (he doesn’t want to remember it at all), so he tamps down the tears and thankfully Sett doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.</p><p>The rainstorm from earlier has abated and the air is suffused with summer again; Aphelios realizes he feels… warm. And he has an appetite. And, even more surprisingly, a coy idea he’s not sure how he’s come up with, but he’s confident Sett will like it.</p><p><em>I want you to choose for me</em>, he signs when he has Sett’s attention. Then he props his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, looking at the Vastayan with a tiny smile and an eyebrow quirked; body language that blasts ‘I want you to take control.’ Aphelios can sense a power dynamic growing between them, and he loves it. He’ll give Sett a little control now, perhaps finding a way to take it back later, relishing the exchange because any surrender feels safe and playing little games like this is exciting. It’s nothing like the true powerlessness he has in almost every other aspect of his life.</p><p>Sett reacts the way Aphelios had predicted, eyes glinting and even straightening his shoulders to unconsciously seem bigger. The boyish glee in his face and voice as he orders ‘the special dish’ for both of them, talking with the waiter like he owns the place, is charming. Perhaps Aphelios is more adept at this than he gives himself credit for, because it’s surprisingly easy, instinctually knowing which strings to pull. And maybe he’s truly the one in control, if he’s as good at eliciting the desired responses from Sett as he seems to be.</p><p>Meanwhile the beast-man is practically preening; pleased beyond measure to be able to order ‘the special’ that is so rare and so pricy the restaurant only has portions for two, finally able to lavish luxury on his moon bunny. Having no idea what to expect, when it arrives, Aphelios is shocked (which seems to please Sett, too).</p><p>On a silver platter before them sits a bed of ice, orchid flowers and rare shells, and nested in it all are paper thin slices of a white meat with a pink hue, arranged so that they appear to be blossoms.</p><p>“So this is kraken meat,” Sett runs his tongue over his pointy teeth in anticipation. “Never had it before, always wanted to, but it’s really hard to get it in stock. Mostly ‘cause it’s uh, not quite <em>legal</em> to catch and sell. Must really be my lucky day.”</p><p>Aphelios looks down at the meat thoughtfully, he can even smell the whiff of brine off it, it’s that fresh. What he ends up wanting to say would be too advanced to sign, so he pulls out his notebook and writes quickly.</p><p>
  <em>Krakens are worshipped in the Serpent Isles. It feels strange to be eating a god.</em>
</p><p>Sett flashes a toothy, cocksure grin. “You’re right. Didn’t even think of that, but it just makes me hungrier. And can’t have been that powerful of a god if it’s here on our dinner plate.”</p><p>They smile at each other as Sett plucks one of the kraken flowers with his chopsticks and waits for Aphelios to do the same so they can take the first bites together.</p><p>It’s like nothing either man has tasted before; it’s the salt of the ocean mixed with a tang adjacent to octopus meat, but with a spicy aftertaste. It’s exquisite, delicious. Aphelios again feels the tiniest bubble of tearfulness burst, luckily too far below the surface to put him at any risk of crying. It’s just that he’s so grateful; grateful the noctum isn’t preventing him from tasting this on his tongue, grateful that Alune was brave enough for the both of them to push him into this moment, which is already worth all the heartache that preceded it.</p><p>As he chews slowly and savours every mouthful, Aphelios thinks of Sett, too. How cool it is that he is so unbothered by pretense, so unfettered by tradition or reverence. It feels so good to be toeing a playful line of sacrilege when your faith dominates all your other actions. But there is also something wholly <em>normal</em> about this, about enjoying yourself and sharing good food with someone you care about. Aphelios loves it.</p><p>The kraken is filling by Aphelios’ standards—he is actually satisfied for the first time in months—but it’s not even close to enough food for someone of Sett’s stature. And so they spend another two hours catching up, Sett ordering whatever he feels like, always insisting on getting the Lunari to taste a minimum of one bite. Between them they have also shared three bottles of cherry wine, though both can hold their liquor well and all that changes is that they are even more smiley with each other.</p><p><em>Did you catch the yordle who stole from you?</em> Aphelios signs languidly, relaxed and digesting, so content. Sett is polishing off some ice cream as dessert, both on their final glass of wine before it’s implicitly understood that they’ll be leaving after this.</p><p>“Huh? Oh, right. The whole reason I was in Bandle City in the first place.” Sett leans back in his chair, ice cream demolished, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “Yeah, of course I got him. And after what I did to him I don’t think I’ll be welcome back any time soon... I, uh, may have taken some things out on him. Not that the fucker didn’t deserve it, and not that I give a shit about being banned, Bandle City was way too fuckin’ tiny, couldn’t even get in any of the houses and all they had to eat was weird shit like tulips and butterfly wing dust. Not my kinda place.”</p><p>It would be strange for almost anyone else to be making small talk about what was, in all likelihood, a murder, but the realities of both men revolved around death, and Aphelios knew that whoever that yordle had been, he’d have been aware that stealing from Sett would earn him a death mark.</p><p>Instead, Sett keeps chatting about what it was like on the other side of the veil, sometimes getting sidetracked on long tangents, but Aphelios doesn’t care at all. He listens with rapt attention, sipping his wine.</p><p>Sett’s train of thought has meandered enough that the topic of conversation has totally changed, and he asks naturally, “hey, doll, remember the first time we came here?”</p><p>Aphelios nods. Of course he does.</p><p>“I remember you said ‘thanks.’ You really surprised me, talking like that. Probably when I knew I was in real deep, too.” He laughs. “That was one of my favourite things about that whole connection deal, actually. It wasn’t the same as hearin’ ya speak, but I kept thinkin’ how lucky your sis is that she gets to just chat with you like that. Hearin’ your thoughts in your voice. Although I could do without the noctum makin’ you all cold ‘n practical.”</p><p>Unintentionally, Sett has triggered a cascade of thoughts in Aphelios’ mind, most not pleasant. The Lunari swallows slowly and gazes down at his hands, folded in his lap.</p><p>“Hey,” Sett soothes immediately, seeing the change. “Sorry, if you don’t wanna talk about that stuff, that’s cool. And just know that I love talkin’ with you the way we are now, although even <em>I’m</em> not sure how you can sit and listen to me so patiently. But it’s real nice… especially tonight… ‘cause I can see you. When I look at ya, in your eyes, I can see all of you in there. I dunno how to describe it. But it’s the opposite of when I was seein’ ya in that cave. I ain’t into all that spirit shit, but it looked like yours was far away.”</p><p><em>I haven’t had noctum in five days</em>, Aphelios writes. There is no sign language gesture for the poisonous flower.</p><p>“How do you feel?” A sweet, eager question, and considerate because it’s not jumping to any conclusions. It takes a while for Aphelios to know what to write, and even when he picks an answer he’s not totally satisfied.</p><p>
  <em>Good and bad. Everything is much more intense than I am used to. So, it’s a lot. But I do feel like I’m ‘all here.’</em>
</p><p>“More intense, eh?” Sett presses cheekily. “Well then I’ll just have to make it my personal mission to have it all be the good stuff. You have no idea what it does to me to know that you’re gonna be feelin’ <em>everything</em>.”</p><p>The poise that Aphelios has cultured, the modicum of control he’d temporarily held in their game, evaporates as the young man reddens.</p><p>“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Phel,” Sett says and Aphelios gets even shier. “I can’t wait to see how you blush later. And does it mean… with the noctum out, does that mean you can use your voice a little?”</p><p>The question is so suggestive and said with such mirth that it makes the truth even worse. Aphelios’ stomach sinks as he shakes his head. He decides that he wants Sett to know, even though it’s upsetting and will probably ruin the mood.</p><p><em>This time I think it’s totally gone.</em> Then a clarifying line, written underneath.</p><p><em>Permanently</em>.</p><p>It hurts Aphelios to see how Sett deflates, but selfishly, he’s wanted someone who cares about him to know this latest price he’s had to pay.</p><p>The Vastayan’s concern is wholly about Aphelios; to his credit he’s completely forgotten about any innuendos or sexy suggestions, though he apologizes profusely for what he’d said earlier about making Aphelios scream. He just wants to make sure his bunny is okay.</p><p>He insists on knowing why, why now, why permanently, why so suddenly. He is just about to leave off, sensing that he is picking at a fresh wound, when Aphelios capitulates and writes it all out, and they spend another two hours at the restaurant, Aphelios supplementing context or further details about the purification rituals when Sett asks, calming him down when Sett looks like he’s going to break everything. At one point, when Aphelios has explained about the ice water baths, Sett becomes so enraged that his Vastayan magic flares to life, and if Aphelios wasn’t so concerned the beast-man was about to go on a Lunari murder spree, he would find the sight fascinating, especially having no supernatural ability himself. The golden shimmers flow, something like a hybrid of water and flame, around Sett’s body, focused in his giant fists. Just as Aphelios begins to worry that the wait staff will come by while Sett’s like this, the older man settles all of a sudden, though his face is still contorted with anger.</p><p>“I ain’t gonna lose my cool,” Sett promises after a deep breath, serious. “’Cause then I’d be misusin’ the trust you put in me to tell me in the first place. And I want you to tell me these things, I want you to tell me everything, and I know that if I go bustin’ shit up or bein’ a rage case, you won’t want to.”  </p><p>Sett flexes a fist, bringing it to his forehead, closing his eyes, and grinding his knuckles into his brow as if he’s trying to expunge a brutal headache. “And as much as I’m tempted to lock you up in one of my houses so you never go back to those fucking bastards ever again, I won’t do that to you either. I respect ya way too much, and I know you’ve got it handled. But god <em>damn</em>, it just ain’t right.”</p><p>Perhaps the staff had an idea that coming earlier would have been an interruption, for now as Sett is calmed down and his fists are uncurled, their server comes to confirm they don’t need anything further. It’s the perfect transition out of the heavy subject matter, which can never be resolved, never mitigated into a better situation.</p><p>But Aphelios must look visibly distressed at the small fortune that Sett scribbles on a bank note as payment, because the Vastayan’s face erupts into a self-satisfied, scheming grin.</p><p>“That ain’t nothin’. But… if you feel like you owe me, ya wanna know how you can pay me back?”</p><p>Aphelios wonders if this is going where he suspects it is, but he nods anyway. He really is uncomfortable with the amount of money Sett just spent on their dinner, more gold than Aphelios will see in a year, it doesn’t matter that it gives Sett obvious pleasure to flex his wealth like this, that it’s one of the ways he shows affection.</p><p>“Then you can promise me,” Sett continues, “if I tell ya I ain’t gonna kidnap you from your Lunari overlords, then you promise to come see me when you can, and let me take care of ya, just like I’m doin’ now. That’s how I want to be repaid.”</p><p>Absolutely <em>not</em> what Aphelios had expected.</p><p>“That’s what would make me happy.” Sett has said the magic words, whether he’s realized it or not. Aphelios feels like he’s going to cry again, it’s so overwhelming to be cared for, and to be told that caring for you makes a person happy. His instinct is that he doesn’t deserve any of it, but he still looks at Sett through misty eyes and nods firmly.</p><p><em>I promise</em>, his fingers say as he gives the tiniest sniffle. And then injecting a little playfulness: <em>and I won’t tell anyone that The Boss is such a softie</em>.</p><p>Unfortunately, Sett doesn’t know all of those signs yet, so Aphelios has to write out his teasing joke at Sett's insistence, though when Sett reads it he responds rather matter-of-factly.</p><p>“I ain’t really soft,” he explains, without any hint of defensiveness. “’Cause I’m only really soft for two things. My Ma, and my mooncake.”</p><p>Aphelios gives a short burst of silent laughter, mostly caught behind a demure hand he’s raised to cover his mouth. He writes something with the other, holding up the notebook so Sett can see it clearly.</p><p>
  <em>The Boss is definitely corny, though.</em>
</p><p>Sett reads this too and then pretends to get riled up, grinning all the while. “You sayin’ you don’t like my lines? Nothin’ corny about ‘em! I’m pure, unadulterated charm, baby! I’m irresistible!”</p><p>Aphelios is forced to agree as they continue their banter; Sett’s seemingly one-sided dialogue being answered in kind with Aphelios’ eloquent body language as they rise and ready to depart. The Lunari is still smiling as he stretches felinely after sitting so long, but in the next moment he is seized around the waist and pulled into Sett’s body. </p><p>Looking up into Sett’s face, Aphelios is pitifully lovestruck; the warm tan of Sett’s skin, the dark scar that bisects his nose and the other, lighter scars etched, one on his lower lip so deep he could feel it when they kissed. The warm gold of his eyes that varies from a bright daffodil yellow when he’s excited or angry, to deepening into honeyed amber when he’s relaxed and content. Aphelios remembers seeing the image of himself through Sett’s eyes, the overgenerous perfection of it, and understands because that’s how he sees Sett, too.</p><p>The Vastayan holds Aphelios to him so tightly that the Lunari can feel his heels raise off the ground, and stoops his neck for a kiss. When they separate, Sett relaxes his hold a little, but they are still mere inches apart.</p><p>“Wanna come back to my place?” Sett purrs, placing a little kiss at Aphelios’ temple, who responds with a kiss of his own on the dip between Sett’s collarbones, just under his gold necklace, before nodding.</p><p>“Well then, let’s get the hell outta here.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aphelios spends the walk to Sett’s mansion getting increasingly back in his own head, now that sex is imminent. Was there anything specific he should have done to prepare? It seems as if both men are on the same page when it comes to who would be ‘taking’ whom, but now Aphelios is thinking about logistics; a man as big as Sett is probably massive everywhere. Will it hurt? Hopefully not an issue with how high Aphelios’ pain tolerance is… but... what if it doesn’t… fit? Can that happen…? Regretfully, Lunari sex education doesn’t exist and so Aphelios is woefully on his own.</p><p>And it’s clear that without the barrier of the noctum, his emotions and moods read much more clearly, because Sett figures out something is troubling the smaller man pretty much right away, addressing it after giving Aphelios a tour of the house.</p><p>It’s a weird mix of traditional Ionian architecture; lots of light wood, a sunken landing where they take their shoes off, sliding doors and a veranda that wraps around the building, and then decorations that wouldn’t be out of place in the pyramids of Shurima. Golden accents on things Aphelios didn’t know <em>could</em> be accented in gold. Vases, mounted antique weapons, statues, tapestries. It’s very Sett but at the same time, it doesn’t feel very lived in, and the Vastayan walks around the place as if he has no special affinity for anything that’s inside. Later, Sett will tell him it’s because none of his several houses really feel like home, the only place that does is his Ma’s cottage that she refuses to let Sett upgrade.</p><p>The bedroom and master bathroom are the clear crowning jewels of the place; Sett’s bed is massive and covered in blood red fabric that bears not a single wrinkle, the headboard a mass of dark wood that’s carved with the deities of Runeterra. The bathroom is equally as large, with a cypress wood soaker tub that could accommodate four and must take an afternoon to fill. But Aphelios can smell the perfumed steam emanating from under its cover and figures that Sett must have staff who keep things clean and at the ready for all their Boss’s whims and desires.</p><p>“Sit,” Sett gestures to the bed, and Aphelios complies, not realizing how nervous he still looks. Even with his fingers gloved, the astonishing smoothness of the bed covers still pulls his attention, and he grazes a hand back and forth over them.</p><p>“Fine Ionian silk, my favourite” Sett explains while coming to sit beside the Lunari after lighting a lantern on a side table, the mattress sinking under his weight, pushing them together. “But listen, Phel. I’m gonna have to put you on the spot even though I don’t wanna… you look like you’re real worried about something, real stressed. And if it’s something I’ve been doin’ or something about what I’ve been suggesting we’re gonna do, I’d rather know. Last thing I wanna do is pressure you, like I did before.”</p><p>Aphelios is mortified and touched at the same time. He had no idea his ruminating was so obvious, and now he can add ‘ruining the mood’ to his growing list of anxieties. But if Sett can boldly and kindly address it head on, being clear that he wants an honest answer, then Aphelios can give it to him. He doesn’t want to risk anything getting lost in translation, so he pulls out his notebook instead of attempting to sign.</p><p>
  <em>It’s my first time.</em>
</p><p>He wants to write more but can’t think of a way to include any further explanation that wouldn’t be unbearable, so he just hands the pages to Sett to read, as is, watching as the Vastayan’s eyes widen a little and his ears twitch.</p><p>“Really, mooncake?” Tenderness is infused in Sett’s voice, which already goes a long way to soothe his soon-to-be-lover. “Are ya just nervous? Or would you prefer if we take things slower… I know I’ve been comin’ on real strong, but we got all the time in the world. It doesn’t have to be tonight. Only thing I care about is makin’ you happy.”</p><p>He may have a thousand and one concerns and questions, but the last thing Aphelios wants to do is postpone what he’s been fantasizing about for years, now. He takes the notebook back and just as he puts pen to paper, he is struck by the perfect thing to say; something he’ll never forget Sett having said to him first.</p><p>
  <em>I’m in, if you’re in. I love you.</em>
</p><p>The act of committing those words to paper (although he would have vastly preferred to say them aloud) and meaning them wholeheartedly inverts something within Aphelios; in a single moment he knows he’ll never be more ready, that they will join together and work through any snags along the way, and that whatever happens, it will be wonderful, because it’s with Sett. He hands the notebook back to the Vastayan with calm confidence.</p><p>“Aw shit, Phel. Shit. Ya got me, got me real bad, ain’t nobody’s ever gotten me like you have. I’m all the way in with you too. I love you.”</p><p>He scoops Aphelios into him, laying the both of them down on the bed. The light weight of Aphelios’ slim body on top of his is enough to arouse Sett instantly, like he’s going through puberty again and his dick is set with a hair trigger. But they’re not kissing and cuddling long—although Sett has managed to sneakily undo the sash that holds Aphelios’ coat closed—before the Lunari escalates, moving from where he was folded to the side of Sett and climbing on top of him to straddle him across his hips.</p><p>Sett groans as his erection makes contact with Aphelios, even through the fabric of all their clothes, it’s still so incredible. The Vastayan reaches to hold the Lunari’s waist, increasing the pressure on his cock as the smaller man removes his heavy coat, dropping it to the floor behind them along with his scarf. Even the unintentional friction must feel good for him too, because Aphelios leans forward, bracing himself with hands on either side of Sett’s head, and begins gently grinding his hips, searching for Sett’s mouth to kiss.</p><p>These kisses are not chaste, they become sloppy and hot with clouds of breath warming their faces, tongues twining and tasting each other. Aphelios seems to have found a rhythm and pressure he likes, but it’s already enough to nearly do Sett in, and so the Vastayan takes a breath.</p><p>“Phel, that feels so fuckin’ good you're gonna make me cum in my pants, and you ain’t even taken your gloves off yet.”</p><p>Sett’s little joke takes a second to penetrate the delirium of lust already making Aphelios’ eyes dark and his cheeks red, but when it does he gives a little snort of laughter and sits up, a smirk on his face as he lets Sett struggle to open the buckles that secure his gloves above his elbows.</p><p><em>Just doing what feels good</em>, he signs once the Vastayan has finally unbuckled the last clip and removed the bronze prayer beads from his left wrist. Happily, Sett gets it all, including the gestures that follow immediately after.</p><p><em>You’re so big</em>. <em>I can feel it.</em></p><p>Sett’s fingers return to Aphelios’ hip bones where they clamp so hard they might leave accidental bruises, but it’s clear Aphelios feels good because his features darken with ardour again.</p><p>“You say shit like that and you’re gonna make me go nuts.”</p><p>It’s the sexiest threat Aphelios has ever heard, and he responds by bringing a gloved hand to his mouth, snagging the fabric between his teeth, pulling slowly to reveal white skin divided by the purple stripe of a tattoo that ends just under the nail of his middle finger. The next glove is removed in the same way as Sett watches transfixed; the palm of this hand is tattooed with a sigil that looks like an abstract eclipse. It’s the first time Sett has ever seen the flesh of Aphelios’ body other than his stunning face, and he wonders how well he’ll be able to cope when he finally witnesses the other’s actual nakedness.</p><p>With his bare hands, Aphelios weaves his response.</p><p>
  <em>Go nuts, then.</em>
</p><p>Sett is just about to, but Aphelios signs more, and suddenly Sett is wondering where the fuck this purported virgin learned to be such an expert at winding him up.</p><p><em>I’m not going to break</em>.</p><p>Sett slurs a swear word and in a maneuver befitting his arena, lifts Aphelios off him and flips him onto the bed, caging him underneath against the mattress in a single move.</p><p>“You’re so lucky I don’t just rip all this shit right off ya,” Sett says gutturally, leaning down to take the collar of Aphelios’ shirt between his sharp teeth, like he actually might be one moment of insanity away from shredding the clothing. Aphelios smiles and gently pulls the fabric away, lifting his head slightly and reaching behind to undo the clasp of his heavy necklace, snaking the chain from behind his neck and unceremoniously tossing it to the floor in the general direction his coat landed. Enraptured, the Vastayan follows pale fingers as they trace the seam of the black shirt, unhooking the tiny fasteners with the ease of practiced second nature. But even when the shirt goes slack, Aphelios just lowers his hands beside his head, staring at Sett with one eyebrow raised.</p><p>“You want me to do it?” Sett confirms, and thinks again how much he’d like to rip this barrier away instead of disrobing the smaller man with any patience.</p><p>Aphelios nods with a distinctly seductive colour. Sett grits his teeth as a growl rumbles out of his throat as he decides he’s gonna do this right, and force himself to savour the moment, knowing it’ll be worth it even though he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Supporting his weight with one thick arm, he brings the other to the seam of Aphelios’ shirt, slitting his hand underneath but not opening it. He searches with his fingertips until they meet skin, and instantly Aphelios shudders beneath his touch. Sett keeps exploring, using tactile familiarization before he takes his lover in visually.</p><p>Aphelios’ skin is so smooth almost everywhere, but even with his callouses Sett can feel raised lines that are too regular and symmetrical to be anything but deliberate. Do the Lunari practice scarification, too? he wonders. But then he remembers what Aphelios told him earlier; about how blood letting was part of his purification. The scars he’s feeling now must be the result of that. Sett had planned on dragging this out a little more, teasing Aphelios until he begged for the shirt to come off, but now he needs to see if his assumption is correct.</p><p>He uncovers Aphelios’ torso with the care that someone would exercise opening a present and not wanting to rip the paper. Even in just the ordinary lamplight, Aphelios’ pale skin has an ethereal quality, like he really is hewn out of moonstone. But there is nearly as much purple as there is white; the smaller man’s body is covered in labyrinthine tattoos that clearly bear significance, though any meaning is lost on the Vastayan. And every edge where violet ink meets pale flesh is demarcated with a fresh, raised scar.</p><p>Sett is so close to being enraged—truthfully, he is already angry enough that if a random Lunari were to enter the room at that moment, he wouldn’t think twice about cracking open their skull and spitting on the brains. But in a way he could previously only do when it came to his mother, he manages to take an emotional step back, reigning in his temper and exploring the emotions underneath it instead. </p><p>He just wants Aphelios to be safe, to be taken care of, to be happy and healthy. Nothing about either of their lives makes any of that easy for them, but right now Sett <em>is</em> being given an opportunity to keep Aphelios safe and happy, even if it’s just temporary. It’d be unforgivable to waste such a rare chance, and so Sett’s rage melts into devotion and with tender caresses, he smoothes the shirt off Aphelios completely.</p><p>“Beautiful,” he says, drinking in the sight. “So goddamn beautiful.”</p><p>They kiss, a little slower than before, and Sett trails his lips down Aphelios’ cheek, into the crook of his bared neck, where he nuzzles and breathes in.</p><p>“Ya smell beautiful too,” he murmurs into Aphelios’ skin. The beast-man has never been able to totally isolate the scent of the Lunari, it was always mixed with the aromas or stinks of wherever they were. But it’s immediately familiar and Sett soaks it up into his body, into his bloodstream and he just <em>feels</em> different, so relaxed. His inflamed temper from just a moment ago has completely evaporated, a brewing storm calmed by the perfumes of sandalwood and warm vanilla.</p><p>There comes a pointed exhalation of air, adjacent to a laugh but voiceless, that tickles Sett’s ears. He looks up. Aphelios is smiling and his eyes are heavily-lidded, and his black hair has fallen away from his face revealing the entirety of his crescent moon tattoo for the first time.</p><p>“What,” Sett murmurs back. “What’s funny, mooncake?”</p><p>
  <em>Nothing. But I like seeing how your moods change.</em>
</p><p>“Yeah? Well, same here. I always had a sense of ya under the noctum but seeing you react like this…”</p><p>Aphelios responds with a languid blink of long, dusky eyelashes—a contented but sexy expression—and Sett is riled again, lips sharpening into an enthusiastic grin as he moves away to stand up and finally slough off his heavy coat. He’s about to get back on top of Aphelios and renew his exploration of the Lunari’s body, but he’s stopped by two white fingers hooking up to the second knuckle in the waist of his pants.</p><p><em>These, too,</em> Aphelios signs with his free hand.</p><p>“You sure you’re ready for that?” Sett teases, but Aphelios nods earnestly. “I ain’t wearin’ anything under ‘em.”</p><p>Aphelios surprises Sett by licking his lips with exaggeration, a caricature of hunger. It’s funny but it also heats the Vastayan’s face, and though he’d never ask someone to go down on him during their first time, he can’t help but crave the day when he’ll feel that tongue running up and down the length of him. He’s immediately rock hard again, his erection twitching up as he pulls his pants off. Despite his ardour, he focuses hard on Aphelios’ face, trying to discern every last nuance of the expression there.</p><p>Sett is huge. Enough that he’s hurt people without meaning to or had to hire the services of an experienced prostitute when a more organic fling had to stop because things just wouldn’t work mechanically. It would be a lie to say that his lust wasn’t intertwined with the concern that he'll encounter the same issues with Aphelios, and the idea of injuring the other is unbearable.</p><p>But if Aphelios is afraid or intimidated he’s not showing it. Instead as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes have gone dark in a way that’s totally different from when he’s near-absent under the influence of noctum. He reaches out and then, as an afterthought, stops his hand mid-air to sign instead.</p><p>
  <em>Can I touch you?</em>
</p><p>“You don’t even have to ask, doll,” Sett replies, relieved, and back to being wholly aroused. He’ll still watch for any cues that Aphelios is apprehensive or in discomfort, but for now, he’s going to enjoy this moment he’s dreamt about for over two years.</p><p>Goosebumps cascade across the beast-man’s tan skin as pale fingertips make the first, tentative contact; like Aphelios is caressing something fragile or dainty, which Sett’s cock is absolutely not. Still, the ghosting lines being traced as the Lunari familiarizes himself are already doing something to Sett. It’s sublime torture. The pad of a thumb stroking the underside of his shaft, the gentle way he palms Sett’s balls.</p><p>Then, there is a transition, like Aphelios has made up his mind or is systematically implementing the next stage of a plan. He rises from where he was sitting, pressing up against Sett’s naked body and pulling the Vastayan’s head down for a kiss in the same moment that he grasps his cock in earnest. Sett moans into Aphelios’ open mouth and reaches to clutch at the black hair at the base of his neck, tipping his head back even further so their kisses are that much fuller.</p><p>Aphelios has begun to find a rhythm, not quite fast, but with a firm pressure that makes Sett feel good. When the head brushes against the soft flesh of Aphelios’ stomach, Sett likes that the best. He’s just thinking about how it’s high time for Phel to take his own pants off—the last item of clothing either of them are wearing—when Aphelios transitions again, pulling away from the hot, wet kisses to place a final one on the corner of Sett’s lips that bears that deep scar, and suddenly the Lunari is on his knees.</p><p>“Wait, Phel—you don’t have to if you don’t want—”</p><p>Sett’s polite protestations are interrupted by the warmth of Aphelios’ tongue, tasting the bead of wetness that has formed on Sett’s tip. With that, Sett’s brain empties into a fizz of bliss as he watches Aphelios’ tongue run all across his cock, sometimes pausing to suck at the skin of Sett’s thigh or to take his balls into his mouth one after the other, Aphelios’ hand compensating for the times he takes his tongue away (<em>where the fuck did he learn this?</em> Sett wonders). Sett usually prefers it rougher but Aphelios seems to have natural talent and even this licking and rubbing is good enough that he’ll cum eventually, if he lets himself. But he doesn’t want to have to wait around to recover if—</p><p>“Holy fuck!” Sett’s cry pierces the quiet as he’s abruptly engulfed—suddenly all of him is inside Aphelios’ mouth and down his throat—</p><p>Without consciously deciding to, Sett pushes Aphelios off.</p><p>“Fuck, Phel, you don’t have to, you’re gonna hurt yourself or choke or somethin’! How the fuck you doin’ that anyway—”</p><p>He stops when he sees Aphelios’ confusion, tinted with hurt, written starkly across his face.</p><p><em>It felt bad?</em> come the diminutive, ashamed gestures.</p><p>“Huh? What—no,” Sett rushes to clarify. “It felt fuckin’ incredible, but almost no one can handle it and I don’t want you to puke or somethin’ just ‘cause you were tryin’ to push yourself to impress me. What you were doin’ before felt great, too. You don’t have to go so hard.”</p><p>The confusion tangles up Aphelios’ face for a moment or two more as he figures out why Sett stopped him, but then clears when he realizes he can explain.</p><p>
  <em>It doesn’t bother me at all. No gag reflex.</em>
</p><p>Hilariously, Sett freezes and stutters as he tries to make sense of this fantastic, impossible information.</p><p><em>But I can stop if you don’t like it. I thought it would feel good. Just tell me how to make you feel good</em>.</p><p>This sentence is a bit more complex than the others and Sett needs Aphelios to repeat or rephrase some signs for it to come across. The Vastayan is conflicted—Aphelios isn’t someone he wants to skullfuck and he really has made people vomit in the past. But if this is what the Lunari wants to do… and seems to be able to do it amazingly…</p><p>“Oh, fuck, Phel. You’re makin’ me feel amazing already. You just do what you wanna and I’m just real happy to come along for the ride.”</p><p>Aphelios sits back on his haunches for a second, considering. His face scrunches adorably and he blushes to his collarbones, though sadly, it’s too dark for Sett to see it properly. He signs, bashful.</p><p>
  <em>I want to make you cum.</em>
</p><p>Holy gods. Aphelios might really be too much for Sett to handle, and the Vastayan loves it. In that second, his meagre willpower crumbles; they’ve got all night and if Aphelios wants to make him cum this way, Aphelios will get it, for Sett can’t see himself denying the other anything, ever.</p><p>“Sweetheart,” he growls, so hard his dick is aching, “you’re gonna kill me. You really are. You’re too fuckin’ incredible.”</p><p>Aphelios is flattered, and the praise helps him make good on his word. Sett has no idea what he’s done to earn this heaven on earth of his dick bumping the back of Aphelios’ throat, and once, he can swears he feels the vibrations of his voice. But possibly even better than being deep-throated by the love of his life, is how turned on Aphelios himself looks; their eye contact scorches and the fervour in the Lunari’s actions every time Sett tells him ‘just like that,’ ‘a little faster’ or ‘that’s so fuckin’ perfect’ is what bring Sett to the edge, and it comes so fast and so hard it catches him completely off-guard.</p><p>Aphelios swirls his tongue around Sett’s throbbing head before enclosing everything in wet heat, bobbing up and down and beginning to master the creation of suction. He pulls back again and Sett can hear the sound he makes popping from Aphelios’ lips. Lubricated with saliva, Aphelios’ hand pumps as he catches his breath, but then Sett’s cock is half in his hand, half in his mouth, and the mix of pressure, friction and suction is <em>just </em>about to transport Sett when, as suddenly as the first time, Aphelios takes his hand away and the entirety of Sett surges back and down his throat and this time Sett is <em>certain</em> he’s felt the resonance of Aphelios’ voice; Sett hardly has time to get out a loud swear word before he feels like he’s exploding, spilling enough to drown his lover.</p><p>As soon as his sanity returns Sett withdraws hastily out of courtesy, and even though he feels like his knees are about to buckle he still looks automatically for something for Aphelios to spit into. Helpless in his post-orgasm fugue, he can hardly even concentrate, but he notices Aphelios is wiping his mouth as he gets to his feet.</p><p>
  <em>Did it feel good?</em>
</p><p>Sett is gobsmacked that Aphelios even has to ask. “Feel good? Fuck! It was the fuckin’ best blow job I’ve ever had! But just wait right there, I’ll get you something to spit into… if I can fuckin’ walk properly…”</p><p>
  <em>Spit?</em>
</p><p>Mystified, the Vastayan realizes Aphelios has already swallowed all of him down. The thought is unbearably sexy, knowing part of him is already mixing irrevocably with the Lunari, but he feels a twinge of guilt as well.</p><p>“Hoooolyyyyy fuck, Phel,” Sett moans as he collapses on the bed. “I can’t handle you. You’re too fuckin’ hot. Everything you do is somehow just right for me and I ain’t prepared for it on any level. What the fuck.”</p><p>Aphelios comes to sit beside him on the bed, looking so self-satisfied and pleased that it warms Sett’s heart.</p><p>“But you don’t have to swallow next time, can’t imagine it’s nice…” Sett trails off as Aphelios’ expression changes into a sarcastic, skeptical smile; a look like <em>I drink literal poison, remember? </em>and Sett just drops the matter, chuckling and pulling Aphelios in for cuddles.</p><p>The noctum must also be responsible for the lack of sensation in Aphelios’ throat, allowing him to do things most people shouldn’t be capable of… Sett is conflicted, he feels like he’s taking advantage of Aphelios or at the very least, the circumstances; but before he loses himself to another dark mood, he catches Aphelios peering up at him, lovesickness making his violet eyes sparkle even in the meagre lamplight. It’s clear: Aphelios wants to be here, wants to be doing all of these things with Sett, this is what makes him happy, as happy as it’s making Sett. The beast-man decides to categorize all of it firmly as the silver lining of an otherwise unacceptable situation, and begins scheming on how he’s going to pay the Lunari back for ruining all other oral sex for Sett for life.</p><p>Then he lands on it—a thing he had done to him once on a (totally legitimate) business trip to Noxus. If he can pull it off, not only will it prep Aphelios for later, but if all goes well, the younger man will finish by sobbing (happily) in his arms. This devious idea infuses Sett with adrenaline, sweeping away the last sluggish dregs of his haze.</p><p>“Hey bunny,” he murmurs into Aphelios’ hair. “I wanna make you feel that good, too. I can’t go down on ya ‘cause my teeth are too sharp, but can I try something else for ya?”</p><p>Bless him, because Aphelios doesn’t even ask what it is before nodding his emphatic assent, and this trust sparks Sett’s fires fully, and soon he’s crooning into Aphelios’ ear in a low voice:</p><p>“You might regret it,” he nips at a white earlobe and relishes the frisson of pleasure he can feel shivering through Aphelios’ whole body, “I’m gonna make it so that every time you ever wanna cum for the rest of your life, you’re gonna think of this moment, you’re gonna wish it was me doing this for you again and again…”</p><p>Sett’s hands travel across his lover’s skin, finding a pink nipple and encircling it with maddeningly light touches until Aphelios is writhing in his embrace and he finally relents and pinches it. The Lunari is panting already, every muscle in Sett’s ears is strained hard towards the wonderful sound. Even under the reinforced, ribbed fabric of Aphelios’ pants, Sett can see the other’s growing arousal, and he feels excited and nervous, which is unusual for him, at least in matters of sex. It would be fair to say that Sett was previously a selfish lover; if they both had a good time, so much the better, but ultimately he was doing it to enjoy himself. Being nervous about seeing his lover naked for the first time or about his ability to make good on his dirty talk promises was new territory. As he reverently undoes the laces binding Aphelios’ pants together, he wonders if the Lunari really has any concept of just how profoundly he has Runeterra’s greatest pit boss, undisputed arena fighter and Ionian crime lord wrapped around his little finger.</p><p>Probably not; Aphelios isn’t especially concerned about lording control over others like that, and if he is aware, Sett trusts wholly that Aphelios would never weaponize it. They might indulge their little powerplay games, but such play was only possible because of the deep safety and equality they felt with each other.</p><p>More pressing is the fact that, unlike Sett, Aphelios <em>did</em> wear smallclothes, and at the sight of more skin-tight black fabric concealing the Lunari, the beast-man again has to reject the impulse to howl and shred it right off him.</p><p>Rising to stand and easily heaving Aphelios lengthwise across the bed so his legs hang off the edge, his head propped against a lush pillow so his face will be in Sett’s line of sight even from lower down, Sett finally unwraps this last layer, peeling the underwear away and down what feels like the miles of Aphelios’ perfect legs. Automatically, a tattooed hand moves to obscure the exposed erection, but Sett pulls it away gently, kissing the knuckles as he gazes down.</p><p>Unlike Sett, Aphelios is almost hairless, enhancing the uninterrupted curvature and smoothness that is emblematic of his lithe body; every graceful slope of muscle flows into another, accentuated by the tattoos that seem to have no end and no beginning. Drinking in the gorgeous sight, Sett’s eyes rove from the hot blush on Aphelios’ cheeks, following the curve of his collarbones inward and down, across the toned dip of his abdominals, before catching in the carved iliac furrows and finally witnessing all of Aphelios for himself. Even here, the Lunari’s skin is so white it’s hard to believe he’s filled with hot, pumping blood except for the slightest pink tint at his very tip. Sett wants to devour him right then and there, but it really is true that he’s likely to hurt Aphelios with his teeth; the beast-man’s inexperience in this one area an actual liability.</p><p>“So goddamn beautiful,” Sett whispers for the countless time. He can’t help himself. “I’m gonna start, okay? But if there’s anything you don’t like, just tap my head and I’ll stop.”</p><p>Aphelios gives a tiny nod. Sett breaks into a cheeky grin.</p><p>“But it’s gotta be a tap, ‘kay? Cause I’m assumin’ you're gonna be holdin’ on for dear life and so I ain’t gonna stop for any hair pullin’ or tuggin’ on my ears.”</p><p>With that confident promise (that Sett prays he can deliver on), the Vastayan descends, kneeling as if it will be an act of worship.</p><p>He splits Aphelios’ legs apart, coaxing relaxation from the Lunari who has gone tense with shyness, kissing and licking the creamy skin of his inner thighs. Experimentally he presses his teeth into the flesh, only enough pressure to leave little indentations but not break the skin. His ears catch the sounds of Aphelios’ breath quickening in the heady way distinct to pleasure and without the hiss of pain, and the Vastayan remembers the image of Aphelios’ fantasy he saw through their tether—Sett sinking his teeth hard into his shoulder, sucking and licking as they climax together. He stows that away for a little later, because if Aphelios truly wants that then Sett will give it to him, but biting to draw blood isn’t something Sett would ever do without talking about it first.</p><p>For now, he focuses on leaving little temporary red marks, but accidentally gets carried away and trails suck bruises when he can hear and see how it turns Aphelios on. When Sett gets low enough that the tip of his nose brushes Aphelios’ cock, the smaller man’s entire body jolts and then erupts in goosebumps that Sett can feel under his tongue.</p><p>Finally, Sett guides Aphelios’ legs to drape over his broad shoulders (which is even hotter in reality than in even the filthiest of Sett’s daydreams) and spreads the Lunari till he can see his small, pink entrance, immediately burying his face there. Like his tongue is a lightning rod, with every lick and every wet swirl Sett can feel it echo through Aphelios’ entire body, sending little electrified pulses. But Aphelios is clamped too tightly for Sett to penetrate even with his tongue, so he pulls away and gives gentle direction.</p><p>“Everything okay, babe? Can you try and relax for me?”</p><p>He’s so tense, but as they look at each other across the planes of Aphelios’ body, the Lunari nods again and drops his head back, taking a deep, shuddering breath, followed by another and then another. Soon, his body grows heavy and he lets himself sink into the mattress and Sett’s body, laying open wide; he can’t see the gratified smile on the Vastayan’s lips as Sett leans in again, this time finding admittance much easier, rewarded with a lovely sigh that his ears twitch hard to catch. Sett probes and tastes and realizes he’s already rock hard again because Aphelios is letting himself be so pliable under the Vastayan’s ministrations.</p><p>When it’s slick enough, Sett recedes, licking his middle finger and coating it liberally. He tests the tip against the hole and to his delight, Aphelios takes it in easily, huffing another sigh that comes awfully close to sounding like a moan. Sett moves his finger in and out in a slow deliberate rhythm until he senses Aphelios can handle more. A second finger is slicked and added, and finally, a third; Sett watches as Aphelios buries his face in the crook of his elbow, his other hand clenching a fistful of the silk sheets, chest heaving and cock pulsing. If his lover is already a mess just with basic prep like this, Sett hopes that his big talk really will get backed up and Aphelios will be inconsolable after the orgasm Sett gives him. It’s time to implement his scheme.</p><p>Sett switches the orientation of his hand so that it’s now facing palm up, and slowly, gently, curls his fingers. Its location is slightly different for each man but Sett believes that he’ll be able to find it in Aphelios; he keeps flexing his fingers, curling and uncurling them against Aphelios’ wall, near the root of his cock and there—</p><p>A moan. Sett would now swear, even on his Ma’s life, that he just heard Phel’s voice, maybe just the shadow of it and Aphelios himself seems too enraptured to notice. But there’s no doubt that Sett has found the sensitive bundle of nerves he was looking for. His pressure becomes more insistent, cheating a little as he lets a tiny bit of Vastayan magic crackle on his fingertips, and soon Aphelios’ back is arching and his toes curling, nearly sobbing into his elbow at Sett’s every touch. The Vastayan can feel the gland swelling, and begins to see milky fluid weeping from the tip of Aphelios’ erection—just a little more and he’ll spill over the edge, Sett has managed to replicate what was only ever done to him once. And without fully realizing it Sett is touching himself with his free hand, the noises Aphelios is making and the way his entire body judders in concert with every flick of Sett’s fingers is the fucking sexiest thing Sett has ever seen, that is until Aphelios blindly reaches for him, and the beast-man obligingly leans forward so the Lunari can clutch fistfuls of his hair, dangerously close to the base of Sett’s ears so that now Sett <em>really</em> has to concentrate on not cumming himself before he can finish his lover.</p><p>Suddenly, Aphelios’ body goes stone-stiff, every muscle strained against the crash of the tide, and the room seems to echo with his voice even as his tongue can only form a prolonged, desperate <em>nnnn</em> sound, and against Sett’s fingers he cums hard, spurting onto his own stomach and the sheets, tears wetting his face and rolling into his hair, before he crumples into a limp pile.</p><p>It takes a lot of willpower but Sett stops touching himself, though he’s so turned on again that there’s a real risk he’ll blow up the moment he enters Aphelios. But no matter, they can just do it again, and even if they can’t manage, the fact that Aphelios’ heart is pounding so hard Sett can <em>hear</em> it means the night is already perfect.</p><p>The Vastayan gets onto the bed and collects his ragdoll lover whose skin is fever hot to the touch and still trying to catch his breath, neither caring about the wetness. Sett decides against mentioning the fact that Aphelios hasn’t lost his voice permanently after all; for while he hasn’t really contemplated the nuances of the physical toll of emotional trauma, he’s still been through his own share of shit and suspects that the muteness has manifested for reasons not entirely due to the noctum. Maybe Aphelios just needs a place or a person with whom he feels safe, and he’ll be able to heal a little, but Sett will adore him regardless of how they are or aren’t able to communicate. </p><p>That, or his nervous system was so otherwise occupied that his brain forgot his voice was broken.</p><p>With gentle mocking, Sett asks Aphelios his own silly question right back at him. “Did that feel good?”</p><p>The Lunari’s body shakes a little with a silent chuckle as he cuddles into Sett’s chest, nodding his head again and spelling out with one hand, too weak to raise the other:</p><p><em>I think I died</em>.</p><p>Sett laughs too, pleased. “Me too, then. ‘Cause this is certainly my idea of goin’ to heaven.”</p><p>This infuses Aphelios with a little energy because he lifts his heavy head to kiss Sett, stroking his face and jaw tenderly before mischievously going higher, finding Sett’s ears again and scratching. Aphelios rests his chin on his hand on top of the Vastayan’s chest, feeling the vibration as a low, primal growl rumbles deeply.</p><p>“Is this a sign that you don’t need a long break?” Sett is ready himself, and while he doesn’t want to leave too much time after prepping Aphelios before trying sex, a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, Aphelios still has a woozy heat in his face.</p><p>The Lunari responds by swinging a leg over Sett’s waist and laying on top of him, renewing their kissing which immediately becomes impatient as they both understand what is finally about to happen. Sett reaches to position his cock so that it can rub against the cleft of Aphelios’ ass, and it only takes a few moments before he is hard enough to enter. He gives Aphelios a final kiss before sitting up and taking both of them, Aphelios slipping into his lap with his legs around Sett’s hips. It’s the position they had both fantasized about, and one in which Sett will probably get the deepest. But for that reason it’s not wise to start this way, and so Sett explains while he delicately lifts Aphelios off and searches in a bedside drawer for a vial of oil, suggesting they try from behind first to see if Sett fits.</p><p>Surprisingly, Aphelios looks pensive, perhaps a little dejected.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>The answer is easier written, and so Aphelios reaches for the pencil and paper on the tabletop and quickly scribbles it out.</p><p>
  <em>Can we try with you on top first? I don’t want to start with my face buried in the sheets.</em>
</p><p>Sett too wants to see Aphelios’ face as he pushes inside, but hopefully there will be plenty of times in the future to do just that when the Lunari’s body is more used to the experience. Sett really does dread both of them wanting it but not being able to go all the way because they didn’t take things slow enough in the beginning.</p><p>Aphelios reads the hesitation in Sett’s body language because he writes more.</p><p>
  <em>This is what I want.</em>
</p><p>Sett’s resolve melts; if Aphelios feels this strongly, then he owes it to the other to try and make his first time what he wants it to be. And, hell, the Lunari is able to endure things that even Sett thinks would push him past his limits, so he decides once again that he’ll trust that Aphelios knows what he can handle.</p><p>“Alright, bunny. Your wish is my command.” Sett loves the satisfied smile that graces Aphelios’ lips, and thinks again that the younger man could boss him around to do just about anything and it would be delightful.</p><p>Aphelios relaxes supine against the silk, watching through his bent knees as Sett pours the oil into his hands, warming it between his palms before ensuring every inch of his cock is lubricated. Now that this moment is finally here, Aphelios feels calm and content, though still molten with desire. Somehow he knows everything will be fine, that his myriad anxieties and fretting can be forgotten, he’s so ready for this natural culmination.</p><p>He lifts his arms to embrace Sett as the Vastayan descends to kiss him.</p><p>“Ready, Phel?”</p><p>Aphelios bestows his own kiss and nods. Sett raises back up, supporting himself with one arm as he uses his free hand to guide his tip against the entrance that’s still so slick. Aphelios’ heart begins to pound at this contact, but he masters himself and takes a deep inhale, making sure that all his muscles are slack. The pressure increases until all of a sudden it gives way, and Aphelios feels the first inch of Sett inside him.</p><p>Both men gasp at the same time, and Sett needs to steady himself by lowering to his forearm. Tentatively, Sett presses a little more until another inch is inside, and he takes his hand away so he can pet Aphelios’ hair instead.</p><p>“It already feels amazing,” Sett whispers, but his eyelids flutter as Aphelios widens the spread of his legs and the lessened resistance means Sett sinks in a few inches deeper. It is here that he meets tension, though Aphelios is careful to keep any strain from his face. He breathes like he would during a meditation, concentrating on accepting all of Sett inside. His focus is interrupted as Sett retracts a little and then presses again, all with maddening gentleness, but even this little movement makes Aphelios crave it faster and harder, the friction against his swollen prostate is too much and not enough all at once.</p><p>“Gods, Phel, you feel so fuckin’ good,” Sett says through gritted teeth, golden eyes alight and nearly glowing. This eye contact of theirs is so potent and intoxicating and it’s exactly why Aphelios didn’t want to have to face away from Sett; he wants this added intimacy and communication.</p><p>“I’m gonna go deeper…” Sett is matching Aphelios’ heavy, tumbling breaths as he pushes, and this time there is no tension, and he slips in to the hilt.</p><p>Sett is inside him, Aphelios thinks over and over like an incantation, and he clings to his lover and this sense of fullness that is a dizzying mix of pain and ecstasy. The rest of the world, all of its burdens and obligations and complications—none of it exists beyond the place where the two men are joined. For Aphelios, it’s bliss like he’s never been able to even contemplate before.</p><p>Sett just holds him, seeming to need his own moment of pause before things begin accelerating.</p><p>“…I’m gonna… I’m gonna start movin’ a little, okay?”</p><p>Aphelios is ready. He shudders as he feels Sett slide out of him, and shudders again as he’s filled. Sett pulls out enough that Aphelios feels the tip of his cock drag back and forth over that cluster of nerves and coherence and reason evaporate into an immediate and sensory immersion. The Vastayan replicates the movement, still at its excruciatingly slow pace, until the tip of Aphelios’ erection is wet again where it’s rubbing against both their stomachs. Inarticulate need seethes and builds in the Lunari until it bubbles up and froths over and with his torn voice, he begs:</p><p>“More…”</p><p>Unfortunately it has the opposite effect because Sett halts abruptly, eyes fixated on Aphelios’ face and pupils slitted. It’s a moment that’s filled with joy and frustration in equal parts—Aphelios realizes incontrovertibly that the sound was his, that his voice isn’t lost forever; earlier his head had been too full of firing neurons and his ears deafened by the rush of his own blood to be sure he’d spoken. Now he knows he can, but he also knows he doesn’t want Sett to stop, and so he tests his voice again. Although it falters with disuse, its tone is not of pleading, it is of command.</p><p>“M-more.”</p><p>Something snaps in Sett and he complies without thinking, burying himself with a deep thrust that makes Aphelios cry out hoarsely, and the Vastayan compulsively chases the sound, pumping in and out as he watches Aphelios’ eyes roll back into his head and his jaw go slack. Aphelios was right (when wasn’t he?) this view is so worth it. His body feels like it’s molding around Sett too; the hot walls are so tight it’s crazy-making, but they also feel like they’re sucking Sett back in the instant he pulls away. Letting Aphelios make him cum earlier turns out to be a genius strategy, because without the slight dull of the refractory period Sett would have helplessly erupted ages ago.</p><p>Both are craving even more momentum, so Sett withdraws completely so he can stand, dragging Aphelios across the silk until his ass hangs off the bed. But supporting half the weight of the slim Lunari is easiest thing in the world for Sett and he locks Aphelios’ thighs to his chest, lifting him until their hips are level and Sett can thrust inside again, hard enough this time that their tempo is demarcated by the slap of skin on skin.</p><p>“Fuck,” Sett groans as he watches Aphelios’ svelte frame jolt with the force of every penetration. “You take me so well. This feels so fuckin’ good!”</p><p>He also sees a glistening thread of pre-cum sticking to the white flesh of Aphelios’ stomach, and is immediately determined to make the other orgasm again. He pounds into Aphelios, whose breathing begins to intermingle with voiced moans, burying his face into the crook of his elbow again. Sett wonders if this is an idiosyncrasy only he has ever witnessed; when Aphelios is overloaded and readying for climax he unconsciously shuts out all other stimuli. Whatever the reason, Sett finds it insanely adorable and sexy and imprints the spectacle in his brain so he can pleasure himself to it when he doesn’t have the real thing in front of him.</p><p>Aphelios must really be near the edge, because as Sett feels the thick heat tighten around him even more he has to pull away Aphelios’ hand as he desperately starts to touch himself.</p><p>“No hands,” Sett says, and is surprised by the defiance in Aphelios’ violet gaze when he immediately pulls away from his elbow and stares up at the Vastayan to… pout? The expression makes Sett want to fuck him so senseless that he can’t even form the intention to lift a finger, which in turn, of course, makes him talk big, too.</p><p>“I’m gonna make you cum again with my dick, so, <em>no hands.</em>” Sett twists upward with each thrust now too, grinding especially hard against where he knows Aphelios’ sensitive spot is, eliciting breathy sobs from his lover.</p><p>“Does it feel good when I fuck you?” Sett is getting close himself, though he still has plans and seeing Aphelios so supplicating and pliable is turning his brain into goo. He is answered with a ready nod and a shaky whimper and abruptly he has to pull out or else he’ll cum in the next few strokes.</p><p>For all his dirty talk, Sett still has it in mind to make this first time everything Aphelios had unwittingly shown him he wanted it to be. He scoops up the bewildered Lunari and covers the rosy bridge of his nose with kisses as he sits himself on the edge of the bed.</p><p>“Can we finish,” Sett half-asks, half-explains, “the way we saw through that conduit thingee? It was like this, right?”</p><p>He guides Aphelios until he is sitting on his lap, white arms looped across his shoulders and white legs locked around his waist, their mutual arousal pressed tightly together.</p><p>“And you tell me when you’re gonna cum, ‘cause if you really want me to, I can bite ya.”</p><p>Aphelios flushes at the mention of his cherished fantasy he had never prepared for Sett knowing, wasn’t even sure that Sett would remember. But at the mere mention of it his cock twitches hard enough that Sett can feel it against his, and the Vastayan flashes his sharp canines with a grin.</p><p>“I’ll take that as a yes, mooncake.”</p><p>Unnecessary, because Aphelios is nodding deliriously anyway, lifting himself by Sett’s beautiful shoulders, and gasping as Sett guides himself inside again, gravity pulling Aphelios down and every last inch of the Vastayan sliding in easily.</p><p>The position makes everything impossibly, mind-breakingly intense, Sett is so deep inside Aphelios that it hardly feels like they are two separate people at all; Aphelios is so full and so spread it feels like his pelvic bones are being pulled apart. And somehow, he’s never felt anything better, more pleasurable than being unraveled like this around Sett.</p><p>Something in the mood shifts naturally for both men; this position and this level of immersion in one another is more intimacy than either have ever experienced, and both are overwhelmed by indescribable feelings of adoration as they begin kissing.</p><p>Of course, Sett <em>does</em> try to articulate it, and as he leans his forehead against Aphelios’, he murmurs, “I love you so much, Phel.”</p><p>The Lunari opens his mouth to reply, but to intentionally speak, much less such important words even though he feels them and means them with his whole heart… the mental block rears its head and Aphelios sags against Sett in mute defeat.</p><p>“’Sokay, sweetheart,” Sett soothes, completely understanding. “I’m the luckiest man alive that I got to hear your voice at all tonight. I know you love me, too. I know I have your heart, just like you got all of mine.”</p><p>Against the crook of Sett’s neck Aphelios nods, but his eyes are wet with frustration and emotion. When Sett feels the moisture and accurately guesses at the reason, his heart breaks a little but he still smiles, and just by being himself, finds the perfect way to comfort his lover.</p><p>“Hey, Phel,” he coos into his ear, pretending at innocence. “I made you a promise.”</p><p>Taking the bait, Aphelios pulls away, curious, staring into his favourite face in this realm as he waits for an answer. An answer that isn’t innocent in the slightest.</p><p>“I promised you I was gonna make ya cum again, and I’m a man of my word.”</p><p>The melancholy is instantly discarded and they are both smiling devilishly when their lips meet again for kisses that grow increasingly messy. Automatically, Aphelios begins to move to compensate for Sett’s lack of range of motion sitting down, and Sett exalts in every small movement and exploration, knowing that Aphelios is testing for himself what feels good and how to build momentum.</p><p>It starts out with the lateral tilt of his hips, when Aphelios goes this way, he swears he can feel Sett against his spine, when he goes that way the pressure against his stomach is so intense he even looks down to see if Sett is pushing out a visible bump. It feels absolutely incredible, and Sett says so, albeit with his characteristic profanity and straightforwardness.</p><p>But as Aphelios readjusts his legs so that he’s got his legs under him on either side of Sett, allowing him to begin to move himself up and down, Sett arrives at a distant realization.</p><p>He remembers his ‘threat’ before making Aphelios cum for the first time, saying that he’d make it so good that every time he climaxed ever after for the rest of his life, he’d be forced to think of Sett. But it’s the Vastayan who realizes that he has utterly lost any desire to experience such pleasure with anyone else but Aphelios, that the Lunari owns him body, heart and soul; that no matter if it’s months or years before they can see each other again, Sett will wait, and wait, and wait, because he never wants this with anyone else ever again. Aphelios has ruined Sett: a most welcome, rare, joyful ruin that Sett couldn’t be happier to be afflicted by.</p><p>But these sweet thoughts soon melt into heat and incoherence. Aphelios has found his rhythm, fucking himself on Sett and moaning again loudly as he finds the perfect angle. Sett assists a little, his fingers indenting in the supple flesh of Aphelios’ ass, helping him rise, and helping him descend hard. Over and over again, until they both feel a crescendo building again, Aphelios constricting around Sett and pulling him impossibly deep. Sett prays that Aphelios is as close as he is because he’s brushing against his limit with every emphatic thrust, and he really does want to make good on his promise.</p><p>“Ss…”</p><p>The sibilant is hissed so quiet and strained that if Sett’s ears were human, it would have been lost amongst the noise of skin hitting skin and heavy panting.</p><p>“Ss-Sett,” Aphelios says.</p><p>“Sett.” Aphelios commands.</p><p>Sett understands and obeys, stooping his head to sink his teeth deep into the snowy flesh of Aphelios’ shoulder.</p><p>“Sett!” Aphelios cries out.</p><p>Sett’s mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood, his ears fill with the clear ringing of Aphelios’ voice when the Lunari cums hard against them both, and he fills Aphelios with wave after surging wave, soaking his lover’s insides and staining his territory.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry mooncake,” Sett sounds crestfallen as he tips a handful of bath water over Aphelios’ injured shoulder, carefully rinsing the blood that’s already sticky. “That’s probably gonna scar real bad…”</p><p>Aphelios is sitting little spoon in Sett’s lap, utterly exhausted and the happiest he’s been in years. He can speak again, at least a few words here and there, and most importantly, he said Sett’s name like he wanted to. He already misses the incredible fullness of Sett inside him, but even now as they cuddle in the giant soaker tub, Aphelios’ body feels different, in a sublime way. The biggest change is that he feels a little more control, perhaps because he is so free from the noctum, but also because he feels so safe with Sett. He feels sufficient control that trying to speak short sentences suddenly doesn’t incite the frustrated panic it has before.</p><p>“I hope it does,” Aphelios replies drowsily, letting his head tip back against Sett’s shoulder. His voice is already Sett’s favourite sound in the world (next to his Ma telling him he’ll always be her baby); the slight Targonian accent and the tenor colour are pleasant surprises because neither can be conveyed through writing or sign language.</p><p>However, the Vastayan didn’t expect this reaction and the statement confuses him greatly. Unfortunately the explanation is too long yet for Aphelios to be able to say it all out loud. Reluctantly he heaves himself away to the edge of the tub where he dries his hands on a towel and writes with tools he brought inside in case this happened, it takes a while and the ink is a little smeared where a few droplets from the bath have strayed, but when he’s done he immediately configures himself back into Sett’s embrace, holding the paper up in front of him so the Vastayan can read it.</p><p>
  <em>I want it to scar because it will be the first time my body has been marked through my own choosing, and by something that I wanted and enjoyed. Tonight is the first time I’ve felt like my body belonged to me. And not just because of the Lunari missions or being a conduit. A lot of people don’t understand what it’s like to be a twin. I adore Alune and wouldn’t change anything about her being my sister, but when you share everything with another person, even a womb, it makes it hard to feel like something is your own. You gave me exactly what I wanted. The first time I’ve wanted something for my own pleasure. It was incredible.</em>
</p><p>As Sett absorbs the words, conflicted turbulence fills his heart. He’s elated that Aphelios is telling him how happy he’s made him, but the explanation also speaks to something that lies deep within the recesses of Sett’s childhood and adolescent memory, and when he pinpoints this amorphous feeling, he arrives at complete understanding of Aphelios’ feelings.</p><p>“You know what, I get ya. Growin’ up it felt like shit, havin’ everyone and anyone make comments about me, about my ears ‘n crap like that. Too much of a freak for humans, too human for the Vastaya. I don’t remember ever feelin’ good during those years. And then, when I started out in the pits, I didn’t give a shit what happened to this half-breed body, and no one else did either, except my Ma. Sometimes people’d even cheer when I got hurt, didn’t matter if I was the underdog or the favourite, everyone just wants to see blood. The only way I was worth somethin’ was as long as I was strong enough to win fights for somebody else. Didn’t feel like I belonged to myself, either.”</p><p>Sett leans his cheek against Aphelios’ head, petting the damp black hair with one hand and holding Aphelios to him with the other. All the while, the Lunari listens attentively, compassionately.</p><p>“It only got better when I realized this body <em>was</em> mine and was good <em>because</em> of its power. No one could fuck with me, so long as I didn’t let ‘em. Been a long time since I felt like I wasn’t in charge, but I do remember what it’s like, ‘n it fuckin’ sucks. I’m only sorry ‘cause I know you ain’t got the same options as I did, like how I became the owner of the pits. Although, considering how you got The Boss in the palm of your hand so easily, it’s a real shame… I think Aphelios the Crime Lord would bring Runeterra to its knees.”</p><p>Both men laugh, sending ripples across the water.</p><p>“Any time my moon boy wants his desire for personal pleasure fulfilled,” Sett murmurs musically into Aphelios’ ear, “All he’s gotta do is ask, and I’ll be at his service.”</p><p>Aphelios hums with appreciation and lays his arms on top of where Sett is holding him across the stomach, stroking the golden tan skin of his lover’s forearm with lazy fingertips. If only they could make love again—Sett’s suggestive tone is certainly noted—but already it’s past midnight and Aphelios is aching and sleepy. Sleepy enough that he could close his eyes and doze off right here, especially with Sett so warm behind him and the water so hot and fragrant around them…</p><p>The Vastayan entertains him with chit chat and by flickering his magic over the fingers of his free hand, and for a while Aphelios is transfixed by watching it and touching it; little wisps transfer to his skin for the briefest of moments before dissipating. But soon Sett notices the heavy relaxation weighing Aphelios’ body and chuckles as he rouses the smaller man a little before he really does fall asleep.</p><p>“Want me to wash your hair for ya? Then we’ll get you dried off and you can sleep as long as you want.”</p><p>Aphelios hums again before saying cryptically, “you, too.”</p><p>This turns out to mean that he wants to wash Sett’s hair for him too, but this proves to be a flimsy cover for a diabolical scheme to play more with Sett’s ears and reduce the huge man to putty; something Aphelios has developed an immediate taste and aptitude for, and Sett is all too happy to be victimized.</p><p>And soon Aphelios is touching Sett all over, running his hands across rippling muscles, and when Sett raises a warning eyebrow—as in, <em>you know what this is going to lead to, right?</em>—Aphelios fakes a demure smile and teases that’s he’s merely helping Sett get cleaned up. But his roaming hands and hot kisses show otherwise, and soon they are somehow both turned on again despite feeling utterly spent just moments before.</p><p>“Wanna cum again?” Sett whispers, nipping at the purple tattoo on Aphelios’ lower lip. “I can do all the work.”</p><p>Aphelios’ violet eyes are hazy with ardour and he nods, but as he stands in the tub he wobbles on weak legs. Sett catches him, laughing and lifting his lover so he can sit on the wide brim of the soaker tub, and Sett comes to stand in between his legs. Their difference in height is mitigated this way, their hips level, and so Sett takes the both of them in his massive hand and pumps until Aphelios is crying out and the only reason he doesn’t fall off the edge of the tub in a boneless heap is because Sett guides white hands around his thick neck so they can use the last strength in their owner’s body to cling for dear life. Aphelios cums first, hardly anything emerges he’s so empty, and watching his lover orgasm brings Sett over the edge soon after.</p><p>This time they clean up in earnest.</p><p>Sett wonders if he’s ever been this happy as he carries Aphelios into the bedroom and dries him off with tenderness, wrapping him in a fluffy white robe that’s Vastayan-sized and so Aphelios is nearly lost in its folds. By the time Sett is ready for bed himself, the Lunari can barely keep his eyes open, though it’s obvious he’s struggling to do so.</p><p>Maybe it’s for the same reason Sett doesn’t want this night to end either—doesn’t want to spend hours of it unconscious when he knows that waking will mean Aphelios drinks the noctum and leaves for who knows how long. He thinks for a moment, about how to make the time ticking down a little less bitter.</p><p>“Wanna come sit with me on my porch?” Sett asks and Aphelios intones a quiet but happy <em>mmhm</em>, allowing Sett to pick him up again bridal-style, along with the blanket from the bed.</p><p>When they emerge outside, the air is cool and damp, there is the staccato tapping of water droplets.</p><p>“Rain,” Aphelios murmurs, sounding happy about that too.</p><p>“Could be the storm from earlier came back around,” Sett agrees. “Sounds like it’s mostly done now, though.” He then wraps the blanket around his shoulders like a cape, gathers Aphelios into his arms and sits them both down in a plush lounge chair that overlooks the garden Sett pays someone else to take care of for him.</p><p>He watches Aphelios settle in the cradle of his lap, the younger man blinking slowly but still awake and gazing out into the dark flowers and trees. After a few minutes there is a break in the clouds, and suddenly beams of unnaturally bright moonlight illuminate the landscape.</p><p>Aphelios lets out a contented sigh, brain too fuzzy to be able to snag on anything specific to worry about, and whenever he sees the moon like this he always feels comfort. The quicksilver lights a vine of giant, white, trumpet-shaped blossoms nearby, and they practically glow.</p><p>“Moonflowers,” he whispers.</p><p>Sett follows his gaze and then smiles. “Those? Yeah. They’re my favourites too. Ma gave me a clipping off the vine that grows in her garden when I bought this house. ‘Course, I ain’t got the first idea of how to take care of ‘em, but I just leave that to a professional and then I’m the one who gets to come home late and relax like this and watch ‘em bloom.”</p><p>“So nice,” Aphelios says with his voice, and then supplements with his hands, <em>I love it here. </em></p><p>Masochistically, as he makes sure all of his lover is snuggled under the blanket, Sett envisions a future where Aphelios lives here with him—hell, he’d pay the gardener to raise noctum flowers and a build a fucking cave pool to house them in if that meant Phel could stay—a future where they spend every night of the summer out on the veranda, cuddled into each other like this and watching the moonflowers open.</p><p>It’ll probably never happen. He can’t even say they’re in a real relationship, though it hardly matters because he’d say yes instantly if Aphelios proposed marriage right now, and Sett himself is awfully close to blurting it out himself but even he knows that would be a lot. It’s less romantic to realize that, in practical terms, it would change little anyway. He settles for kissing the top of Aphelios’ head and taking in his smell one more time; slightly different after the bath but still a scent that makes Sett’s heart ache with familiarity and love.</p><p>Eventually, Aphelios becomes very still in the cocoon of blankets, his head resting against Sett’s chest, the metronome of the Vastayan’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep.</p><p>Uncharacteristically, Sett doesn’t find sleep comes easily; he’s too troubled by thoughts and schemes that amount to a man trying to plan how to hold onto a fistful of water.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Funny how Aphelios, so used to pain and certainly no lover of it, wishes the way his body hurts and aches would last as long as possible. But as he finishes belting his overcoat, he thinks about how the moment he leaves Sett’s house and finds a secluded spot, he’ll drink the noctum to connect with Alune and his body will burn for a moment and then he will feel nothing at all. He consoles himself with the soreness in his shoulder—it’s thrilling that Sett has marked him and a vestige of their night together will remain with Aphelios until the day he departs his physical body.</p><p>“Ya sure you can’t stay for breakfast?” Sett is trying to put on a brave face, which would be more convincing if his ears weren’t drooping like he was getting his heart torn out. Aphelios feels a sharp, regretful pang in his own heart at the sight. He wants to stay, for breakfast, for another day, for forever, but tarrying will only make it worse, and breaking his promise to Alune is ultimately unfathomable.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says softly, voice much more strained and quiet than during the night. Probably because his throat feels tight with emotion, and just under the surface, he’s so upset.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I get it. I won’t keep ya… just so long as you promise not to be a stranger, if you can help it.”</p><p>Aphelios nods solemnly as he shoulders his belongings, but he can’t even comfort Sett with a promise of when he’ll be back. He can’t comfort himself, either.</p><p>Sett trails Aphelios bleakly to the door, failing utterly to play it cool like he wishes he could. The silence is deafening as Aphelios slips into his boots and fastens them.</p><p>And Sett was never one to be able to handle silence.</p><p>“Phel,” the syllable bursts from his mouth as the Lunari stands to leave. Without thinking, Sett reaches behind his neck to unhook the gold collar he’s worn for years, and he presents it to Aphelios. “I… just… um, I want ya to have this, so, keep it with you while you’re away. I wish I had a better gift for ya, but I just… I want you to have something of mine while you’re out traveling. Maybe it’ll help keep ya safe. I ain’t never lost a fight wearin’ it.”</p><p>Staring stunned at the well-worn necklace in his gloved hands, Aphelios bites back tears. Since he’s known Sett, he’s always seen the Vastayan wearing it, and Aphelios recalls how Sett once off-handedly explained it had been a birthday gift from his mother, who knew her son appreciated the flashy and flamboyant.</p><p>Sett is still babbling as Aphelios unclasps his own necklace, a symbol of his station as a Lunari warrior so it’ll have no significance for the beast-man, but suddenly Aphelios needs him to have it anyway, too.</p><p>“You’re givin’ this to me?” Sett is astounded. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble with your overlords or somethin’?”</p><p><em>If anyone asks I’ll say it was damaged in a mission,</em> Aphelios explains. <em>Besides, I want to be able to wear yours instead. </em>Sett isn’t totally wrong though, ‘losing’ his own necklace might raise an eyebrow, but he’ll have to hide Sett’s whenever he returns to Targon, for no doubt it would be taken from him and he would be subjected to even more intense ‘purification’.</p><p>But it’s all worth it, because Sett is overcome. Seizing Aphelios to him, he bestows kisses everywhere he can reach before he locks the Lunari in a hug so tight it’s crushing.</p><p>“Ah, shit, mooncake. Next piece of jewelry I’m givin’ you is gonna be a fuckin’ ring so you better be ready.”</p><p>Aphelios hugs back just as tightly. In that moment, Sett's pseudo-proposal is so charming he doesn’t care about the details or the complications or how impractical it all could be; even if he has to go rogue for a little while, he needs to come back to see Sett and they can have a proper conversation about it all then, but for now it’s enough to know that the heart he has given so totally has been replaced with one given as completely.</p><p>Against the constriction of Sett’s arms Aphelios takes the deepest breath he can, calming and readying himself. If he doesn’t say this now, there’s no guarantee he’ll ever get another chance, especially since he is always headed toward some unseen danger.</p><p>He wets his lips and inhales again, exhales. He raises on his tip-toes so his quiet voice can reach Sett’s ears easier.</p><p>“…I love you.”</p><p>He can see the way Sett’s ears perk rigidly, and knows he’s heard, and feels proud that he could fulfill this wish. At least Sett has heard it now, no matter what fate awaits them.</p><p>Sett’s answer is ready and passionate, and sealed with a lovely, loving kiss. Even though Aphelios' necklace is his new treasured possession and he'll be wearing it incessantly, the most precious gift is hearing Aphelios' feelings in his own splendid, burdened, rare, beautiful voice.</p><p>“I love ya too, Phel.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Epilogue</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Alune comes in clearly, and fulfilling her sibling duty to hassle her brother she wastes no time remarking on the different necklace adorning his chest.</p><p>“Looks like all went well, brother,” she says in a perfectly sisterly mix of smirking teasing and genuine delight that Aphelios has found love.</p><p>But Aphelios answers with numb silence. He’s been hollowed, carved from the inside out by the noctum; can hardly remember where he just came from let alone understand what Alune is ribbing him about.</p><p>She deflates. Maybe when the poison is less fresh in his bloodstream they’ll be able to have one of their little chats about how everything went, and if Aphelios found happiness.</p><p>“Where am I going?” he asks her, straight and to the point.</p><p>She gives the spiritual equivalent of a resigned sigh, some times are better than others but Aphelios really seems single-minded and strictly business today. But Alune has some promising news… it’s too early to be called emphatically ‘good’ but she can’t wait to tell Aphelios anyway, even though she risks getting his hopes up. But the moment really does not seem like the right one—she knows her brother when he is this distant from himself, and chances are he won’t even understand the implications of her new vision for his future.</p><p>“Valoran,” she tells him finally. “I have seen The Aspect of the Moon both in the machinery of Piltover, and in the snowstorms of the Freljord. I am sorry, Aphelios. I do not know which place Diana may occupy physically versus where her orbit may be bringing her or could have brought her, so I can only direct you to the continent. You know how the past and possible futures mix for me, sometimes.”</p><p>“Fine,” he says back, less a snappy retort and more wholly lacking any feeling that he cares one way or the other. He will just follow.</p><p>So confronted by the prison of destiny that is caging them both and the necessary evil that is her twin's blind fulfillment of his role, Alune retaliates by telling her brother the other vision the Moon gave her, the promising one, even though she knows now really isn’t the right time.</p><p>“Phel… I have seen more. Much clearer than when I try to search for Diana…”</p><p>She can sense Aphelios tune in, but with the disinterest of someone being told the sky is blue.</p><p>“Phel, listen to me. Hear me.” A little more interest now, she can feel his true self stirring, if only very deep below and impotent against the suppression.</p><p>“I saw the balance shifting. The Moon will eclipse the Sun and the Lunari will regain their strength of old. Our people will no longer have to hide in caves, we will be powerful. Of course, we must find Diana first… but this future… it’s so clear that I really believe it will come to pass.”</p><p>She was right, he doesn’t understand. She can sense him struggling and failing to comprehend why she’s telling him this.</p><p>“Well…” he starts, somewhat dryly, but not enough that it’s intentional sarcasm. “It’s not really a surprise, is it? Isn’t that the exact future we’ve always assumed would happen, provided I locate Diana? Isn’t that the whole point of this?”</p><p>“Obviously!” she scolds, impatient but not with him. She is fed up, because while she is respecting his privacy, she can feel how warm and full of joy her brother was the night before, and all she wants is for him to have that like he deserves to have it. She is impatient, and heartbroken by the fact that she can never give him substantial joy, that they will never see each other again, perhaps not even after Aphelios transitions to the spirit realm, and that she can only talk to her beloved brother when he’s in varying degrees of glaciation.</p><p>Her tone does surprise him a little, though registering as little more than a minute blip of curiosity. But he is paying attention.</p><p>“It means <em>freedom</em>, Phel. Freedom for you, I think. If the Lunari are strong, if we can live peaceful lives out in the open… can’t you see that there would be no more need for a weapon of the faithful? You will have fulfilled your duty. Your life would be your own, at least, more than it is now. I sense it just on the horizon, brother. So near. Closer than ever before. I hope for you.”</p><p>Alune knows her words are penetrating the fog of the noctum, though they are distorted and stripped by the time they reach Aphelios’ soul. But when they do, she feels his heart jump as if it were beating in her own chest.</p><p>“Freedom…” he echoes. “I could live…”</p><p>For a split second they both know what he is contemplating, but Aphelios slips back under the noctum, leaving Alune to nurture enough hope for the both of them.</p><p>And she does, she believes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come say hi to me on twitter, where I also provide updates on the sequel :) https://twitter.com/aphelionaphelia</p></blockquote></div></div>
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